Disciplined Breakdown
by ahealthyaddiction
Summary: Bella Swan is smart and capable, beautiful and determined: the picture of success. The truth? It's only her mask that's flawless, and she's desperate to stay hidden. He threatens her resolve; he might help save her. Can she let him? AU, all human, lemons.
1. Prologue

**Much love to Dawn and The Boyfriend for giving me** **confidence.  
****- ahealthyaddiction**

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The night was moonless, pitch-black. Hollow. There was no breeze tonight, no wind to animate the still trees around me. The rain fell silent and steady on my bare shoulders, and the only sound cutting through the darkness was the rhythmic beat of my feet against the pavement.

Breath escaped my throat in hitching puffs; I swallowed hard. It wasn't my furious pace that had me gasping for air, but rather my frantic attempt to escape my own reality. It had been working so well for me lately; why not keep running?

_Why is this happening to me?_ I was immediately angry at the unbidden question. Even the _tone_ of my thought was colored with desperation, and I was horrified to note that my eyes were beginning to sting with unwelcome tears.

I shook my head. Another question might be, _when_ did this happen to me? When had I become… like this?

But of course I knew. This hadn't happened overnight. I was by no means a victim. I had liv… _existed_ like this for years, and I had actively participated in this transformation. I owned that now.

Every day I had woke up and felt a bit more distant, slightly more disconnected. It was easy, though, to chalk my apathy up to exhaustion; my detachment to my unrelenting focus. I had unflinchingly punished the lingering part of me who recognized that something might be happening, _really_ happening to me... but no bother. I quickly concluded that emotions were counterproductive and only served to waste energy. It became necessary to replace this silly instinct to_ feel_ with fierce determination.

So I did.

Eventually, the pain had become blunted static which I then _forced_ to retreat somewhere deep inside of me... and in its spot was left blackness, stagnant and consuming and, god help me, perversely soothing. I suppose I had unconsciously accepted that numb indifference was a much more tolerable option than actually facing my demons.

Somewhere along the way, I stopped caring that I didn't feel anything anymore.

_Keep running._

I still woke every morning, all breath and pliable flesh. My feet moved beneath me and I functioned. And I functioned exceptionally well, thank you very much. Shamefully proficient, really. Externally successful and efficient, charming and even beautiful. Plastic smiles masking a controlled but boundless void.

I had shoved that part of me that gave a damn so far away, stomped her down with ceaseless running and sweating and burning… that I had forgotten. I had forgotten that I was alive.

_He_ had reminded me.

_Don't stop. _

My legs screamed in protest.

He had peeled back stained layers of grime, uncovering secrets. My soul was raw and exposed, bluntly sensitive.

_You can NOT stop now. _

I ran harder, feet savagely pounding into the wet ground below me. The night was thick; I choked on it.

I was no longer following the familiar righteous path to which I had resigned myself years ago. I was now blindly blazing inky black forest trails, and his fingertips were lightly tracing new map lines, charting areas of my soul to which I had never allowed anyone entrance.

_Run. HARDER._

But I knew I couldn't escape. Not anymore.

Those days were over, and my body knew it. My feet tangled around one another and I stumbled; my strides were interrupted and my knees buckled as I struggled to remain upright. My body doubled over both in exhaustion and in defense; I clutched at my heaving sides to protect myself from the onslaught of thoughts and epiphanies that wouldn't. stop. coming.

The blissful numbness I had grown so dependent on had disappeared weeks ago, and its absence had left me brutally… _aware_.

But my _conviction_ had still remained; my absolute certainty that despite _everything_, I still could do this on my own. That my suffering was justified**. **The desolation I knew was merely the truth of my life...

I was _meant_ to be alone. The simplicity used to be comforting.

It didn't matter that my father could so easily hate me and my mother could so easily forget me. My life was up to _me_, only me, no one could help me… Easy. Right?

But tonight, I had come to the vicious realization that my problem wasn't that I was just different.

Turns out, I was crazy.

And just like that, yet again, I had found myself running through the dark.

I was soaked. The rain sluiced down the curve of my bent spine; fat currents of freezing water fell from my hair in heavy ribbons onto the sidewalk below me.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried to concentrate on the geometry behind my eyelids; whirling triangles and polygons, bright white starbursts, popping…

I felt him before I saw him. Electricity licked at my overheated skin.

Of course he knew where to find me. He always did.

"Bella."

I was overcome with the joy that his presence naturally brought me. I fought against the ever-present desire, the pull, the _need_ to touch him again… but I wouldn't allow my feet to move toward him, to where my body so desperately wanted to be.

I straightened up and faced him. I didn't have a choice.

His eyes, as always, were waiting for mine. Emerald green locked with hopeless brown, tense and tangible, across the space between us. We were separated only by the pouring rain.

And for the first time in my life, I was truly terrified.

* * *

**Did I mention that I don't own Twilight?  
'cause I don't.**


	2. Chapter 1

**I definitely don't own Twilight. **

**Infinite love to Dawn for her cheerleading skills, and also to both she and Nic for their rec. *love***

**And to The Boyfriend for, if not fully understanding, completely accepting my need to write this story. He would give Edward a run for his money.**

**

* * *

**

_Bella. Monday._

The woman in the reflection stared back at me with wide, chocolate brown eyes. I took a deep breath; her chest heaved in response.

I frowned at the crimson that was already staining her cheeks. She looked anxious, and I willed her to look calm and collected.

_I just need to focus_.

I simply didn't _do_ nervous.

I watched my hand sweep across my forehead, neatly tucking my bangs back behind my ear. Light fingertips traced down my hot cheek to my throat before resting on the pearl necklace that lay there. It was a gift from my father; a bittersweet accompaniment to his previous gift of perpetually ruby-hued cheeks.

Well, I certainly _looked_ the part. I always did.

My pale fingers continued their downward journey, ghosting each button on my white silk shirt. I adjusted the wide belt at my waist and smoothed my straight brown pencil skirt over my hips and thighs. When my glance reached my shoes, I grimaced. Four inch heels and snake skin with lethal points.

_Too sexy, _I thought for the umpteenth time that morning. _Not professional. _

Last night I had set out a pair of sensible brown ballet flats to go with this outfit, and this morning they had mysteriously been replaced by these brown and gold fuck-me shoes. I had rolled my eyes as I slipped them on and didn't even bother looking around; I knew the flats were long gone. Alice must have known that I wouldn't be up to arguing with her this morning. _Smart girl._

To her credit, her taste was impeccable. I _did_ feel more powerful four inches higher up.

Today was a very big day.

Tamping down my nerves, I counted the last four lights on the elevator panel: _16… 17… 18… 19_. _Ding_.

I held captive the buzzing anxiety in my chest and stubbornly denied that I was nervous, though my mouth was dry and my heart fluttered wildly. I realized that I was chewing on my lower lip and immediately made myself stop.

_You're being absurd. _I was cold, focused, untouchable. I was Isabella Goddamn Swan, and nothing would bother me. _Now walk to your desk._

The doors silently slid open. I took one more deep breath, squared my shoulders and stepped out into the lobby.

My heels were muffled by the plush carpet beneath me. I passed by the empty reception desk and observed that Jessica wasn't in yet; no big surprise there. She usually showed up at around 8:01 for her 8am shift, ready to spend the day answering phones and just generally being terrible. Since it was still so early, I had plenty of time to make my cup of tea and settle in before I jumped into my day.

As I hung my coat up, I noted that I already felt a little more like myself: in-control, professional, unaffected. _Much better_.

The main office, or "the bullpen" as I'd overheard my co-workers call it, was a gleaming example of corporate spending at its best. The space had been meticulously designed to be hospitable and client-friendly, from its bright warm colors to the open-air floor plan. Even the placement of the lush green plants had been painstakingly plotted. It was deliberately natural; a calculated organic. Charlie Swan spared no expense for his second home… arguably his first home, really.

The real showstopper was the floor to ceiling window that ran the entire expanse of the back wall and afforded an incredible view of the Seattle skyline. My desk was in the far back corner, where I could enjoy the spectacular view anytime I wished. Or I _could_ enjoy it, in theory. I didn't typically allow myself pleasures like "gazing."

I found it mildly odd that I could cognitively recognize the aspects of the space that were designed to make one feel welcome, yet I had never personally felt that hospitality. I mean… not that it was important to me. It was just odd.

During the workday, the bullpen hummed with voices and activity. This early in the morning, however, the atmosphere was appreciatively quiet.

As I passed by her desk, Angela Weber shyly looked up and caught my eye. She gave me a small smile. "Good morning, Ms. Swan."

Angela was soft-spoken and kind, with pretty blue eyes hidden behind large square black glasses. She had worked with the company for a little over a year now, earning the distinction of having officially lasted longer than any of the other Executive Assistants to the CEO. She was clever and capable, and her gentle conversations with me in the morning were, truthfully, one of the highlights of my day.

In the beginning, I had treated Angela as I treated everyone else in the office. I was standoffish and distant and deliberately discouraging, hoping to avoid any awkward feelings of friendliness that would only have to be dealt with later. I never spoke to her unless absolutely necessary, and even then our conversations never went beyond work related subjects.

But Angela… god bless her, she just kept trying. She would say hello to me every morning and endeavor to converse with me, to draw me out from behind my carefully constructed wall. Her gestures were achingly futile and intolerably kind; the attempts at communication would inevitably lead my retreat, skirting questions and quickly changing the subject back to work. I was acutely aware of how frosty my behavior was. Everyone else had stopped inviting me out long ago, to things like lunch and to their weekly trips to the local bar... Angela, however, had never given up.

It was only recently that I had begun returning her morning greetings. I don't know why I did it… maybe I felt sorry for her, trying to so hard and all. Maybe.

I was a pro at staying calm and detached on the outside, but deep down I was truly nervous that she would turn on me, would confess to someone that I was actually speaking with her and spread expected rumors at the expense of my reputation.

So far, however, Angela had remained trustworthy. She simply exchanged words with me, nothing more or less. I tried to believe that was a good thing.

"Good morning, Ms. Weber." I stood stiffly, secretly grateful for the distraction. "How are you this morning?"

"I'm great, thank you! Already busy, though…" She gestured to numerous checklists and brochures spread out on her desk. "I'm confirming details for the party, even though it's still over two months out." She raised an eyebrow at me. "The Anniversary Gala, remember?"

I laughed, hard and short. "Absolutely."

The Anniversary Gala was definitely the biggest event that the company hosted. It was quite the scene: tuxedoes and ice sculptures and tiny hors d'oeuvres served by bored-looking waiters. This year was the company's 25th anniversary, and 23rd consecutive being, (and I quote our website), "the most successful business consulting firm in the Great State of Washington."

Angela squinted at me. "I'm trying to come up with some preliminary numbers for the event planners." She leaned back and crossed her arms across her modest blue cardigan. Raising an eyebrow, she said, "Shall I put you down for two, then?"

Through our interactions, I had recently found out that Angela was actually very funny. She had been oh-so-subtly pushing the date issue for the last few weeks. It went without saying that I didn't discuss my personal life at work, but Angela knew I was single and had taken to gently prodding me during our morning exchange. I would never discuss my love life… or lack thereof… with her, but I also didn't really mind her mild teasing, either.

I ignored her question and instead offered her a small, amused smile. She grinned back at me.

"Perhaps my presence won't be necessary at the Gala. I doubt anyone around here would notice me missing."

Angela picked up her pen. "I think someone might notice," she said.

"You think so?"

Angela's eyebrow went up again. "You're the CEO's daughter. You're a _Swan_ in the _Swan_ Consulting Firm. So yes, I think someone might notice."

He_ probably wouldn't notice. _

I shook my head, disappointed by my unsolicited thought_. Stop it, Swan._

"Yes, you're probably right." I took a step back. Her genuine grin put me at ease and for a brief moment I actually felt like a normal human being. I was once again struck by how grateful I was for her camaraderie, however small.

She looked back down at her paperwork, but her pen hesitated for a moment; she peeked back up at me though her black frames.

"So… you find out today, right?"

Her gentle questioning brought the nerves back, full-force. I stood up straight, nodding curtly.

"Yes." My hand twitched; I wanted to smooth my bangs off of my forehead, but I willed my palm to stay firmly pressed at my side. "It's a wonderful opportunity for the firm. I hope for the best outcome for the company."

"That's very… team-player of you." She turned her attention back down to her work. I turned and began to walk away.

"Good luck," she called out softly.

_Thanks, Angela_. I thought the words I wouldn't allow myself to say.

Swan Consulting Firm was located in the heart of downtown Seattle, Washington. Our company's purpose was simple, our reputation proven: we routinely took failing companies and turned them in to successes, and we frequently took moderately successful businesses and turned them in to Fortune 500 contenders. Anything our clients needed to have accomplished… _anything_, from something as simple as remodeling an office, to maybe a desire to operate more efficiently, or even completely gutting and re-imagining a failing business model… Swan Consulting could make it happen. We employed experts from a wide variety of professions in anticipation of any need a prospective client might have: business lawyers, accountants, corporate bookkeepers, interior designers and architects. We even staffed an on-call clinical psychologist. If a company needed it, we had it. If we didn't have it, we would get it.

As a consultant, it was my job to make sure that the resources my clients needed were provided and their goals were met and surpassed. It just so happened that I was _very_ good at my job.

A few more people had trickled into the bullpen by now. I walked swiftly, barely registering the pregnant silences that preceded my path; hushed whispers poorly masked by the staged shifting of papers from stack to random stack.

I kept my gaze forward and my pace steady. I hardly noticed them now. Their stares and silent assumptions glanced off my shoulders and nerves. I was anxious to sit down. It was unlikely that I had anything new since I had looked late last night, but I still wanted to check my email. _Just to be thorough_, I reasoned.

My desk was smooth mahogany, wide and blank. There were no artifacts on or around it; no pictures, no mementos, no sticky notes cluttering the screen. Just a desk. My home for nine to eleven hours every day.

Not that my bare workspace mattered; those things were just distractions. I was established as one of the most successful consultants at the firm. My schedule was booked solid two months out with consultations, and every single one of my clients were performing above their projections this quarter.

_That's happiness, right?_

I was determined and driven. I had achieved a level of career success and self-discipline that had taken me many years of practice. _Of course success is happiness._

I busied my hands by plugging in my instant boil water pot and picking out my standard two Earl Grey teabags from my drawer. I couldn't stand coffee; it added bitterness to an already bitter workday. I drank the same tea every morning, without fail.

_Routine_. I contemplated. _Everyday, I park in the same spot, I drink the same tea. I work non-stop. Then I go home._ I took comfort in routine, in familiarity. Focus kept me going. Eyes on the prize… or whatever Rocky would say.

I hazarded a covert look around the rest of the room. One of the accountants had been watching me, but when she detected my movement her eyes snapped back down to her paperwork. I lowered my own eyes, regretting my curious glance.

One of the unfortunate side effects of my lifestyle was that I was disregarded by most of my co-workers. I always discouraged friendliness toward me with polite indifference… but really, it's not like there was a whole lot to discourage. This was despite the fact that I did everything I could to level the playing field and _not_ take the preferential treatment that had been practically shoved down my throat…

But no one in here knew that; how could they? I didn't talk to any of them. Not _really_ talk to them, anyway.

Sure, it used to be hard. But it didn't hurt anymore because of my conviction: I knew my silence was absolutely necessary. I _couldn't_ let my guard down around them because any weakness could destroy everything that I had worked so painstakingly hard to build here. A friendship could be exploited… a joke could be misconstrued… no, friendly relationships were completely out of the question.

So I stayed distant and cold, and let work fill my daytime life_._ I knew that they all took my silence as haughtiness, but I didn't have time to change anyone's mind. I had too much work to do.

I just did my best not to notice, or to care.

I tapped my fingers on my teacup. _Why on earth am I thinking about all of this right now?_ _Having a pity party won't make me get busy any faster._ I was irritated at myself, and I resolved to make Alice punish me at the gym later on.

My computer blinked to life. Some people had pictures of their families as their background. Other people had a musical group that they enjoyed or an image from a place they visited. I had the Swan Consulting Firm company logo.

_Fitting_. Even in my own head I sounded a little more acidic than I meant to.

I heard someone approach my desk, and I quickly bent down to my purse, rummaging through it for nothing in particular. I knew who it was. I could smell his pungent cologne before his feet had stopped moving.

I always pretended to be busy; my hope was that he would see that I was otherwise occupied and maybe do the courteous thing… walk away, perhaps think to come again at a more opportune time…

I had heard once that the definition of insanity is repeating the same action over and over again, expecting a different outcome. Call me insane; I just didn't have a better escape route.

"Good morning, Isabella." Mike Newton stood before me, sipping coffee from his Dilbert coffee mug. Mike thought the comic strip was hilarious, witty office commentary. I thought it had to be one of the most impossibly annoying things I had ever encountered, and he made me look at it every morning with his little visits. I straightened up and reluctantly looked at him.

"Good morning Mr. Newton." I stared at him, waiting to be led through the next step in our dance. I refused to break his gaze while he took one, two, three more sips of coffee before smacking his lips and gently blowing a thick caffeinated, "Haaaaaa" down at me.

"Why won't you call me Mike, Isabella?" He grinned. Mike wasn't unattractive by any means… on the outside. He wasn't very tall, but he was lean and fit and had baby blue eyes that were by far his best feature. His hairline was just starting to show signs of receding, and his teeth were all perfectly white and straight, like ivory piano keys.

"Because I'm a professional, Mr. Newton," was my clipped answer.

He smirked and took another sip. I moved my hand to my mouse and clicked my Outlook open, scanning my email and trying to project obvious dismissal.

"Hmm. Maybe. I think you try too hard to be professional, my dear." Mike smiled his piano key smile. He was from old money, and obviously used to women reacting to his pushy advances and cocky banter. I don't think I could have been more turned off by him if he kicked a puppy right in front of me.

He rudely leaned over and craned his head to look at my monitor. My body tensed up at his sudden proximity. He turned his head to face me and grinned. "Don't worry. We haven't heard anything from them yet."

The knots in my stomach jerked tighter, but I put on my cool, plastic smile. "I assume you mean the status of the Cullen proposal." His grin widened, and I blinked at him evenly. "I wasn't even thinking about it, but thank you for letting me know." _Half true: I hadn't thought about it in a minute and a half._

Mike straightened up, leaning his body away from me; somehow he managed to even sip his coffee smugly. "Right. You weren't thinking about the account that would be the company's biggest and most profitable client?"

He was making my role much easier for me to play. "I meant exactly what I said, Mr. Newton." I turned my eyes back to my monitor. "I have quite a bit to do today, so I probably won't have time to think much about it." I switched over to my calendar, randomly clicking on appointments, trying to give him the hint that I was ready to begin working. However, much to my dismay, Mike sat down on the edge of my desk, shuffling some of my papers with his tweed-covered ass.

"Oh, we'll get the account for their construction division for sure." He pulled at the cuff on his khaki jacket. "I was on _fire_ in that meeting; they couldn't possibly turn me down after that incredible presentation I gave." He seemed to have conveniently forgotten that I was in the meeting as well, along with five other people, all of whom worked hard on making that presentation happen. Sharing the spotlight wasn't Mike's strong suit. "I bet they'll want me to manage the entire company within the month."

"Well, you're nothing if not confident, Mr. Newton."

"Oh, it's not confidence. It's a fact."

He suddenly leaned down to me. His closeness was once again startling. I felt irrationally trapped; his cologne burned my nostrils.

"I usually get what I want." He said softly, never breaking his gaze.

I looked back at my monitor, trying to seem focused and look as comfortable as my crawling skin would allow. _Do NOT blush, Isabella Swan. Don't you dare. _

My chest loosened as he stood up again, taking a step back. "When the Cullens agree to work with us and they request me as their lead consultant, I want you to know that I will absolutely let you help me from time to time. You could learn a lot from me, you know." He winked at me then. Fucking _winked_ at me. "I'd be happy to show you a thing or two."

My left hand clenched tightly under the desk and I felt my face stiffen into my synthetic smile. "Thank you, Mr. Newton. I will be sure to remember that." I willed the color to stay away from my cheeks with every ounce of control I had.

Mike nodded, pleased with himself. "Of course, Isabella. Don't mention it. See you around the water cooler!" He shot me with his finger gun: the classic Mike move.

My smile disappeared into his turned back and I took a long swig of my tea. It burned my tongue and scalded as it traveled down my throat, but it helped take away the terrible taste that Mike Newton always left in my mouth. Mike made me more uncomfortable than I hoped I let on, and his subtle come-ons to me were becoming increasingly less and less subtle. I had been hoping he would become discouraged by my obvious disinterest and stop, but so far… not so good.

More specifically, I was the _second_ highest earning consultant at the firm. The number one position belonged to God's Gift to Everyone himself, Mike Newton. And he never let me forget it.

The Cullen account… it would change everything. I allowed myself to close my eyes for a brief moment. I landed the account, _I _would be lead earner for the company. I sat back in my seat, relaxing infinitesimally. Charlie might come over and congratulate me on all my hard work. My achievement would be recognized, and everyone would see that I had earned this level of success, that it had not been handed to me by anyone. I could walk into the office in the morning smiling, relaxed, maybe even greeting people by their first names…

He_ might even notice me. _

My eyes snapped open._ Dammit._ I quickly reached out to take my mouse. _That's the _very_ last thing you need to think about._ I felt my traitorous cheeks begin to grow warm. I quickly took another sip of blistering tea and brushed back my dark bangs. This day is going to be long enough… _Get a hold of yourself, Swan._

Thankfully, like any good addict, my brain allowed me to quickly become lost in my drug of choice: work. My anxiety slowly slipped away from my shoulders as I made calls and sent emails, only to have a sharp jab of nerves to my stomach during brief lulls. I had to be more diligent and force my mind to stop wandering. I had so much to do. I had quarterly budget reports that I was working on for a book store in Port Angeles; those should be completed today. I had to make some calls to my sporting goods store in Forks to follow up on an inventory snafu we had caught last week, taking a few moments to chat with the store manager. Finally, I needed to order a tasteful gift basket for Dr. Jenks, whose wife was due in about a week to give birth to their first child.

I closed my file on Dr. Jenks. The folder was creased and thick with papers, and I ran my finger along its ragged spine fondly. It certainly had seen better days, but I refused to replace the original manila cardboard with the newer plastic cases I used for my other clients. It was completely silly of me, but I was secretly attached to this file. Its contents told the abridged tale of my career at Swan Consulting.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

On my first day, my father had offered me a private office. It was spacious and sparkling, with a beautiful view of the Pacific Ocean and a personal assistant.

Charlie Swan had been immediately upset when I'd politely refused him, with anger and embarrassment coloring my cheeks. He couldn't fathom why the daughter to the CEO, _his_ daughter, would want to sit in the common room at a plain mahogany desk.

Even more perplexing to him was why I had also quietly refused the list of established clients he was prepared to give me. He asked why I… how had he put it?... _"insisted on proving that success wasn't a priority_"in my life?

I had thanked him for his offers, and asked to see my desk.

Three years after that incident, it still hu… _resonated_ that it hadn't even occurred to him that I might be able to earn my own way here. In my father's eyes, the choices were clear: either accept his charity or fail before I began. I had obviously chosen "fail."

I paused for a moment and ran my hand along the sleek wood now, as if rubbing at the memory to ease the sting. _It was good to remember this, _I thought. This recollection always succeeded in steeling my resolve to focus and work harder, and I was obviously in desperate need of some reminding. I turned back to my spreadsheets, but the nagging memories still echoed in my mind.

I had been determined to prove my father wrong. That same day, I began making cold calls to local businesses, seeking out my own clients. I think I heard more "no's" in the first month than I had heard in my entire life. But I never complained, not once. I worked more diligently, pushed myself further.

It was easily the hardest three months of my life.

Every day, every _single_ _day_, Charlie would come to my desk. He would stand above me and ask me if I was ready to stop being ridiculous and accept his help.

Every single day, I would square my chin, give him a plastic smile and tell him no, thank you.

And then every single night, I would go home, run to the point of utter exhaustion and collapse into a fitful sleep. _Pitiful_. Alice had been worried sick about me, and her quiet, unwavering support helped get through those days.

I admit; I was weaker then. More susceptible to my silly emotions. And there were definitely times late at night, alone in my bed with the silence around me deafening and the night a thick black smear across my face, that had I wanted so badly to just quit, to live off my trust fund and stop torturing myself…

But then, a cold-call yielded the information that a small dental office in northern Seattle had some improvements they would like to make, and yes, they _would_ be interested in meeting with me to hear what I could do for them.

Nauseous with nerves and determination, I had met with the doctor. For over two hours I spoke, pitching and refusing to let him get up from the table and walk away. He was surprised and I would hazard to say a little intimidated by my… tenacity. We eventually found some common ground…

… and unbelievably, mercifully, I had my first consulting client.

Not only was Dr. Jenks my first yes, but he was also my greatest challenge to date. I had quickly realized that his office was stagnant and flailing; he knew he needed help, but was resistant to progressive managing and business planning. His business was on the verge of bankruptcy, which is why I think he even agreed to the meeting in the first place… especially when I offered to buy him lunch with the free consultation.

After many, many more meetings, phone calls, and emails marked "urgent," he had finally agreed to contract with me as his business manager. (I had thought Alice was going to do a back flip off the house, she had been so happy for me.)

I took great pride in the fact that I had surprised everyone and made great progress with Dr. Jenks in a short amount of time, earning his and the staff's trust and respect. With my business model and office management, Dr. Jenks saw his business quickly become profitable and stable. It wasn't my most profitable client, but it was certainly my greatest success story.

But unfortunately, my history with Dr. Jenks wasn't unmarred. About six months ago, I'd been in the position where I had to fire one of this people after she'd been caught stealing from the petty cash box. The disgruntled ex-employee had felt the need to call our company directly and file a long-winded complaint with whoever answered the phone. It ended up being, of course, being Jessica. The rest of the office knew within ten minutes of the call.

The negative feedback had immediately landed me in Charlie's office, with my professionalism being brought into question. There was no acknowledgement of what I had done previously with the Jenks office, or what I had helped them accomplish. Charlie's only concern was with the company's reputation. Even Dr. Jenks himself had completely understood and wasn't concerned with the incident, but Charlie had still insisted on calling him to the office to apologize personally for my mistake. I had sat there in silent humiliation as Charlie assured my client that he would make sure that it wouldn't happen again.

I had put on my plastic smile, thanked Charlie for his input, and promised both he and Dr. Jenks that I would work harder.

And I always keep my promises.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

My growling stomach brought me back to the present. I'd obviously switched over to autopilot and with a shock I realized that it was almost 3:30pm. I always worked through lunch, so that in itself wasn't a surprise. I was, however, quite pleased that I had gone nearly the entire day without having gone crazy waiting for the Cullen response.

I pulled a protein bar from my purse and wondered if Mike had been so controlled. I snuck a quick glance at him out of the corner of my eye; he was leaning back in his chair, staring off into space, furiously gnawing on a pen and scratching the back of his head. I chuckled quietly, proud of my self-discipline.

However, now that my concentration had been broken, cold anxiety flooded my stomach. I glanced around my desk, trying desperately to find something else I needed to do. I futilely checked the inbox on my desk. Of course there were no messages; I was always here to take my calls.

A distraction came then in the form of Jessica swishing by my desk, carrying a stack of papers beneath her jutting breasts. She threw a glance down at me as she passed.

Jessica was undeniably beautiful. She was blonde and tan, young and perky and quick with a smile or a touch for any and all male employees. Today, she was poured into a tight, shimmery blue dress that came midway down her thighs, and a deep v-neck revealing cleavage that was both ample and still being paid for in monthly installments. Her stilettos were silver and flashy, and her long legs scissored, making her full hips sway.

Though she did a great job of appearing trashy and harmless, Jessica was really a bully; a snarling wolf in imitation cashmere. Her barbed tongue and thinly-veiled insults had made Angela cry on more than one occasion, and best of all her disgust for me was barely concealed. She might intimidate poor Angela, but she sure as hell didn't scare me.

Her face twisted into a smile and I nodded; I recognized plastic when I saw it.

"Ms. Swan." She spat the words out quickly, cold and sharp.

"Ms. Stanley." She continued back to her desk, not pausing for my reply. I saw Mike's head whip around and his eyes lock on her swaying ass. I narrowly suppressed an eye roll as he devoured the sight of Jessica sliding into her chair

In a perverse way, the time I spent sitting at my desk alone was the most honest, least-plastic part of my day. To my clients, I was warm and engaging, funny and interactive… I was Bella. To everyone here and my interactions with them, I was distant and focused, and probably very easy to hate… that was Ms. Swan. And I had learned to live with that.

A jovial laugh suddenly filled the room. A booming voice calling out, "Good afternoon, everyone!"

I censored a smile. Emmett never made a quiet entrance.

A moment later, however, my breath caught in my throat. Emmett's arrival brought on a whole new situation to deal with._ Shit. _

Swan Consulting had a fully-staffed IT Department, and most of our clients also contracted with us to take care of their computer and technical needs. Emmett was the head of that department. He was enormous; well over 6'5", broad-chested and solid, with curly brown hair and deep laugh lines around his eyes. He was also the perfect IT guy: total computer nerd, great with clients, and extremely good at his job. His enthusiasm was infectious, and he was definitely an office favorite.

Despite my best efforts to distance myself, like Angela, Emmett had never been anything but sweet to me. I appreciated Emmett's presence more than he understood. He made a bee-line straight for my desk.

"Good afternoon, _Ms. Swaaaaan_." He always dragged out my name, making fun of the formal way I addressed everyone. His boyish smile always let me know his teasing was good-natured. My lips twitched up slightly.

"Hello, Mr. McCarthy." I folded my hands on my desk and craned my neck to look straight up at him. Emmett took a quick look around the room, and I took the opportunity to steal a look behind him; he appeared to be alone. I was both relieved and disappointed.

"How's it going? No new client yet, huh?" Emmett has also been involved in the meeting with the Cullens last week. They had been not only interested in hearing about our business consulting and managing services, but also from our IT support department. Emmett was being nonchalant about the prospect of bringing on a multi-million dollar client. I hoped I appeared as calm as he did.

"Nothing yet." _Hopefully soon_. I wanted so badly to confess to him, but I just couldn't say the words. Instead, I gave him a genuine smile; only my second of the day. He grinned back at me, giving me a covert wink. Not a creepy Mike-like wink.

"It'll be good news, I can feel it. You kicked ass in that meeting, Swan. There's no way they will say no."

I immediately flushed furious scarlet. "Thank you, Mr. McCarthy." I was flustered by the compliment. What was _wrong_ with me? I mentally chastised myself. My normally satin-smooth demeanor was really being put to the test today; I was tense like a piano string and feeling a bit… jumpy. Not good.

He smiled again, no teasing this time. "Don't mention it." He turned away from me, but suddenly stopped short. He snapped his cigar-sized fingers and spun back around.

"Oh, I almost forgot what I came over here for! I got your email yesterday…" I nodded; I had completely forgotten that my printer wasn't working. I was completely hopeless when it came to computers, and Emmett knew this. "I'm sorry I haven't been here…"

"It's not a problem, honestly…if I need to print something, I will just use the main printer. Don't worry about it."

"Don't be so damn sweet. I'll send Edward over here to look at it ASAP, okay?"

I blinked.

My head nodded jerkily, neck pivoting as if on rusty hinges. With a huge grin, Emmett turned and was gone, leaving me once again blushing and disconcerted.

Sure. He's just going to send Edward right over here. _Why wouldn't he, the way this day is going?_

My heart hammered in my ears. I angled my head toward my screen but scanned the room out of my periphery vision; no sign of him. I couldn't smell him, either, so he must not be too near by…

… my mistake. Speak of the devil.

He was standing by Jessica's desk, his back to me. She was looking up at him from under her eyelashes, laughing too loudly and deliberately trailing her hand down her neck, over her exposed collarbone to the generous swell of flesh spilling out from her top. The back of his neck peeked out over the collar of his blue shirt; his broad back tapered to his lean waist. He was perfect, like a Greek fucking marble sculpture.

My thoughts whirred about in my head, suddenly liberated.

_I wonder if he is as firm as he looks. _

I quietly shook my head at the wild thought and at the same time his body movement mirrored my own undulations, shaking slightly as he was chuckling at something. _Not helping. _He ran his long hand through his thick bronze hair… and I swooned a little. I fucking _swooned_. Ugh.

Edward Masen was the most recent addition to the Swan Consulting's IT department. He had been with the company for three months now, and had thus far been an exemplary employee. He was very… qualified. He had a Masters degree in computer science from Stanford University. He smelled amazing and his jawline belonged in a sonnet. He had spent the first two years out of college working for a non-profit organization in Sacramento, California, then a year in San Francisco developing a software program for a major search engine. He was punctual and polite.

Most recently, he had been in Seattle for the past two years working for a major law firm as their IT person. That law firm, Black & Clearweater, happened to be one of our newest clients and when we were contracted to supply their IT support, Edward had been offered a position here with our company. He was an incredible website designer. He was brilliant and tall and he liked coffee with whole milk and he looked amazing in blue.

Not that I noticed him or anything. Or thought about him much. Or had memorized his resume.

Out of all the things in this office I had to deal with on a daily basis… Charlie's indifferent emotional sabotage, Mike's arrogant, annoying advances, Jessica's silent daggers, and the distain of the entire office… Edward Masen was easily the most dangerous. He made me want to talk to him. He made me want to joke and flirt and touch his hard bicep like Jessica was now.

I gripped my desk tightly.

I was well aware that women are inherently at a disadvantage in the corporate world, having the automatic stigma of "emotional" and "unstable" tacked on to us before we even set our pump-clad toes in the door. I placed a huge emphasis on my ability to keep myself under tight control. I couldn't imagine anything worse than being emotional at work, in front of everyone.

But when he walked into a room… _well, fuck me_. No matter how fierce my mental battle, I was incapable of controlling my body's physical reactions. My stupid, disloyal flush betrayed me _every_ time he was nearby. His long legs, his straight posture, even his long fingers tapping on a keyboard or manipulating a pen… my traitorous face would grow hot and my breath would hitch in my throat.

Luckily, he seemed to have yet to really notice I existed, so my absurd behavior was still a shameful secret. _And its gonna stay that way._

And his smell… oh god. When he'd walk by, I would catch his scent trailing behind him, light and tantalizing, and it would sink into my skin… like leather and rainfall, and something sweet I couldn't place.

_Ludicrous_.

But even as I vehemently denied my impulses, and though I despised myself for it… I now couldn't help but wonder what he and Jessica were talking about.

The most absurd point of this whole Edward situation? I had never actually talked to him. We had exchanged pleasantries at the meeting with the Cullens, it had been our first direct contact… but it had been a chaotic morning, and in the rush and excitement of such a huge meeting our introduction had been rushed and distant, without even a handshake. He had smelled even better up close, though…

_I am beyond ridiculous. Of all the things I have to think about today….really Bella? A smell? _But it was an unfortunate fact: Edward Masen just… did something to me. I had no better explanation than that. I was still working out how to stop it.

I checked the clock again: it was 4:37pm. I decided that I was going to call it a day and just go straight home at 5pm, which I almost _never_ did. I wondered if Alice would be surprised to see me before 8 o'clock tonight. This whole day had been one big mind-fuck and I was hungry and my feet hurt. I just wanted to go home and run and watch the Mariners game with Alice. I hadn't been able to catch a single game with her in weeks.

In an uncharacteristic gesture, I angled toward the window and put my hand over my eyes, gently rubbing my temples. Perhaps we wouldn't hear back from the Cullens today. Tomorrow might just be an extension of today, and I would have the pleasure of being all tense and mixed up again. _Awesome_. Maybe Charlie could come out here and loudly let me know how inept I was both as an employee and a daughter. Hey, maybe Jessica could be a bitch directly to my face, and Mike could dry hump me by the recycling bin, and Edward could wear a speedo and a bowtie and do a bump n' grind dance for me from across the room…

"Ms. Swan?"

My hand flew down from my face, and my spine went rigid.

_Oh his eyes are so green._

I knew they were green, but from only five feet away they were emerald and dynamic as they met mine fully for the first time. His hair was bronze and wild, and I was close enough to see the stubble dusting his jaw. _Oh god._ His lips were full and _there_…

If Edward's presence made me blush from across the room, my face was in danger of combusting now. I suddenly became fully aware of the uncomfortable silence floating between us.

"Mr. M-Masen." I stuttered. I hated how uncollected I sounded. I took a deep breath… he smelled even better than I thought. _The sweet smell… it's honey._

I stared dumbly into his eyes, and once again I was lost. _Jesus, what did I need from him again?_

His eyebrows went up slightly; I realized in horror that I must look insane. Or stupid. Or both.

I cleared my throat. "My printer." Two clear words. Better than a stutter.

He nodded and walked to the right side of my desk, reaching down. I watched him move, shamefully captivated by his hands. I wanted him to speak again, to say my name. But not the impersonal, "Ms. Swan."

_Bella. Please call me Bella. _Dammit, stop it._ Now I am arguing with myself. Great. Nice to meet you, Edward, now please excuse me while I go jump off the building. _

He suddenly turned his tousled head, and I was caught. My cheeks burned hotter, and my eyes locked with his. I felt an electric current lick my skin and I noted with utter horror that my nipples had hardened.

He gave me a crooked grin before turning back away. I had never seen that smile before, and the distance between us suddenly snapped with energy. I suppressed a gasp. My hands grew clammy and I suddenly felt exposed, raw. I didn't feel in control of my self, and that was _not_ acceptable. I needed to get out of here. I quickly turned back to my computer and stared at the monitor, afraid that I might not survive this encounter unless I found distraction.

I heard a gentle, "hmmm" coming from my right. Against my better judgment, I turned back to him.

He was staring at the printer, his eyebrows knitted together. "So it just stopped working?" His voice was soft velvet and I wanted to feel it against my cheeks. I nodded.

"Yes." More silence. _Smooth, Swan_.

He ran his hand through his hair again, pausing a moment before gesturing a long, thick arm toward… my lap?

"May I take a look?"

My brain was sludge. Take a look at what? _Me?_ My hands pressed flat on my thighs, my mouth opening slightly…

Oh. My computer tower, under the desk.

"Of course." _Can one die from shame?_

Edward came around to my side of the desk. I scooted my chair backwards, but there still wasn't much room for two. He quickly knelt in front of me; his lean torso was about six inches from my bare legs. The air around me was thick, like I could physically stick out my tongue and taste the space between us. His lithe body was under my desk, touching my computer. His shirt had ridden up a bit, become untucked, and I could see a sliver of his smooth back above his dress pants.

I sat there, completely blank. For once, I had no analysis of the situation. My brain was on overload from this day, and I could only stare at the thin line of skin, absently wondering if he tasted like sugar, or limes, maybe smooth white chocolate. I licked my lips.

After an eternity, Edward backed up and began to turn around. His movement faltered, his eyes fixed on something below him. _Oh. My. God_. It was my shoes. My four inch, brown snake-skin, fuck-me shoes. _Alice, I might murder you. _

His eyes continued to travel up: ankles to calves, exposed knee to thigh, until green eyes met my brown. Electric emerald. I was smoldering.

"It wasn't plugged in."

I blinked. "I'm sorry?" His eyes were dazzling, and I hated my disloyal body more and more for its mutinous reactions to this man, essentially a stranger, who was currently kneeling between my shaky legs.

Edward smiled. "Your printer. The USB cord was unplugged. Maybe you kicked it out?"

That was it. I was dying. _Goodbye, Seattle._

"Oh." My face flamed. Electricity snapped and danced. "Thank you, Mr. Masen."

There was that smile again. "You're very welcome, Ms. Swan." Soft and low. His eyes met mine once more. His electric current buzzed through my addled brain.

And I felt myself smile back. No plastic; my real smile. Our grins were real and shared.

_Ding_. My Outlook suddenly alerted me that I had a new email. Edward's iPhone chimed out a split-second later from his back pocket. From across the room, I saw Mike straighten up, his feet coming down from his desk top and his hand flying to his mouse.

Edward stood up and took out his phone as I moved my cursor to check.

One new email, forwarded from Charlie Swan to the entire company.

From Carlisle Cullen.

Subject Line: Business Partnership Proposal.

My mouth was dry. My hand twitched once as I clicked it open.

_Dear Mr. Swan and fellow associates:_

_My wife Esme and I would once again like to thank you for the time you and your team spent with us last week. Your presentation on what Swan Consulting can provide to Cullen Corporation was very informative, and we very much enjoyed meeting with your consultants and computer technicians. _

_As you are well aware, we are planning a major expansion of the construction division of our company, which involves adding several satellite offices, expanding our services to include renovation and architectural planning, and a complete re-vamping of our marketing and advertising. _

_After much consideration, we would definitely like to take the next step toward a partnership with the Cullen Corporation and Swan Consulting in both a consultation capacity and for our computer and technical support._

My heart was beating so loudly I was afraid Edward could hear it. I could hear low murmurs and gasps going on all around me as we all read the email simultaneously.

_We feel that the next step would be for Swan Consulting to develop a comprehensive business strategy for our expansion, using the next three months as a timeframe. We are very eager to see what ideas your consultant can bring to us. _

_If possible, we would like to meet to review these reports this upcoming Friday in our corporate location. We realize that this is a short amount of time to prepare; however, we feel that the sooner we can all get on the same page about our business direction, the sooner we can negotiate fees and draft the necessary paperwork to make our partnership official. _

_Esme and I look forward to meeting this Friday with our preferred representatives from your consulting and IT departments_

Oh.

_Isabella Swan and Edward Masen. Please contact our executive administrative assistant Rosalie Hale at your convenience to make scheduling arrangements._

_Best Regards, _

_Carlisle Cullen_

_CEO, Cullen Corporation._

I gaped at my monitor, once again finding myself stunned. I managed to keep my upper body completely still, despite my trembling knees. The electricity I felt from Edward had now been joined by a vibrant hum that came up from my stomach, through my chest, and hovered in my throat. I felt swollen, jittery.

_This is it._ _This is my chance. _I swallowed hot adrenaline._ This is it. This is my chance._

For once, I didn't know what to do.

My eyes silently swept around the room. Mike was staring at me, his jaw slack. Angela was peering around the corner, beaming. Emmett popped his head up over a partition, giving me a fist pump and pointing at Edward, who was still standing beside me.

Edward…

I couldn't look up at him. I cast my eyes down, feeling dazed and unexpectedly bashful. My head buzzed. I was flying. I felt free, triumphant_._ I felt… brave.

I raised my gaze to his; he had been watching me. My mouth opened to free rebellious words; I wasn't sure if I was going to tell him I was happy to be working with him or admit that I wanted to lick the thin skin of his throat.

I swallowed both confessions when the door to the CEO's office suddenly opened. The excited murmurs instantly died.

Charles Swan stood in his office doorway, filling the whole room without moving an inch. You wouldn't think that the company he built from the ground up had just earned itself a multi-million dollar client from the scowl etched into his face. The happy grins around him did nothing to soften his expression.

He locked identical chocolate brown eyes with mine. He straightened the cuffs on his suit as he walked toward me, and the buzzing excitement drained out of my chest.

I knew that look. I knew what was coming. And I knew how close Edward was standing to me right now…

Charlie stood above me. He looked at Edward thoughtfully before extending his hand. "Well done, Mr. Masen." _Mike looks really jealous,_ I noted hollowly. _He won't be for long._

Charlie turned to me. "Bella." He said my name like a diagnosis, or perhaps an accusation. He wasted no time. "I think maybe we should have Mike head up this project."

His words shattered the mood around me, slicing brutally into my skin. Furious words bubbled up to my lips so fast I almost didn't have time to catch them. I saw Edward's head move slightly.

"Mr. Swan," I started quietly, keeping my voice even and calm, "I believe that the Cullens specifically requested to work with both myself and Mr. Masen."

"They did indeed," Charlie shook his head, "but frankly, Bella, I am not sure if you are up to the task. I doubt that they fully appreciate how little experience you have with expansions, or how full your workload is…" He looked down at me, his face devoid of any emotion; another ability we shared. "We had that complaint with the Jenks account a little while ago, and we can't afford to have mistakes like that with the Cullens."

My face burned from the injustice. I could see heads beginning to turn our way. For once, I wished Edward was _farther_ away from me, even over at Jessica's desk, anywhere else… and not able to hear about my failure. I was well-aware of the circumstances surrounding that incident and Charlie was, too. But damned if it didn't hurt to hear him spin it, to make me feel like he was talking down to little Bella.

But I wasn't little Bella. I was Isabella Goddamn Swan, new top earner for the company. And I'd be damned if he took that away from me now.

I knew I had to stay calm, or it would just give Charlie ammunition that I wasn't emotionally stable enough to handle such an important client. I could see Mike observing the situation unfolding in front of him. He was leaning back, arms crossed, practically salivating.

"With all due respect, Mr. Swan," I said through tightened lips, trying to ignore both my churning stomach and the burning presence of the man to my left, "I believe it was decided that the incident to which you are referring was a behavioral issue with an ex-employee, and has long since been settled." I took a breath, forcing my words to stay smooth and unruffled. "I stand by my record here at this company, and I believe I have earned this assignment by working diligently and bringing results to my clients." I paused again, my resolve growing stronger. Charlie's eyes were narrowed, his jaw set.

"If you feel like I would not be able to successfully complete this job, then by all means, assign someone else to the account. But I ask that you make that decision based on my work performance, and not personal reasons."

In that moment, I knew my career was over. Charlie's cheeks suddenly flamed red, and I was thrown off momentarily by the all-too-familiar reaction. His mouth opened, and then shut; opened and shut again.

We three stood still, participants in a silent tableau for what could have been thirty seconds, could have been an hour. Charlie then placed his clenched fists on the desk and leaned toward me.

"Prove me wrong, Bella." He was gone as swiftly as he had arrived.

I watched as my father walked away from me. My triumph has survived but was now tempered by the dull ache I had grown used to over the years. The fact never escaped me that nothing I had done was good enough for my father… especially now. Infuriatingly, no matter how carefully I locked my heart away, his criticism still had the power to hurt me. I absolutely hated it.

I knew if I thought about it hard enough, really examined what just happened, that exchange with Charlie would threaten to bring on the tears that I refused to allow. But I couldn't think about it now. Today, I had won. This was the chance that I had given up the last three years of my life for. I had so much work to do…

I was suddenly intensely aware of Edward again, the low hum of his electricity gently filling my senses. He seemed to be hesitating. A wave of embarrassment washed through me again. _He must be absolutely appalled by what he just saw..._

Slowly, inexplicably, he leaned down towards me. He was still a modest distance away, but the heat from his body touched me, licking my skin though my clothes. Searing voltage surged through my chest, my stomach, lower.

His quiet voice caressed by ear, hot satin and male; only I could hear him.

"I look forward to working with you."

He walked away then, completely oblivious to the muted cracking of my resolve.

**

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**

**For anyone who read or reviewed... holy shit, thank you SO much. **

**I can't believe I got reviews... incredible.**

**Along the way, please feel free to share with me any specific questions that you have about the story. I'm NOT an author... I'm just some chick wearing clown-shoes who needed to get these characters out of her head, and I want to make sure I tell Bella's story as fully as my clumsy writing will allow. I will depend on you to keep me honest.**

**Thank you all again.**

**- ahealthyaddiction**

**PS: check out http://www(DOT)fanfiction(DOT)net/s/5030931/1/On_the_Inside_of_Love. It's adorable.**


	3. Chapter 2

**Major love to Dawn, (MusicJunki). Her enthusiasm is constant, and her thoughtful edits are amazing. Thank you, m'dear. **

**I do not own Twilight.**

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_Bella. Tuesday_.

At 5:30am, the building was practically empty. Rightfully so.

Its daytime inhabitants were absent, preoccupied by their real lives… likely doing something as nonproductive as sleeping soundly.

Those unlucky few that were in the building more than likely wished they were pretty much _anywhere_ else; certainly not at a desk or in a cubicle at this ungodly hour.

Who on _earth_ would be here willingly? What masochist tortured himself this way, by going in to work two and a half hours early to work on a project that wasn't due for three more days? What kind of person lead such an empty life that she woke to the dark, dressed in the dark, and drove through the dark to go and sit under artificial light?

I balanced my folders, purse and steaming cylinder of Yerba Matte energy tea on my precariously bent knee, all the while fumbling with my keys. This proved to be incredibly difficult with frozen cold fingers, in the still-dark morning, while wearing stiletto-heeled boots.

The front lobby doors remained locked until 7am. This meant that anyone foolish enough to come to work this early had to sneak in through the side access in the alleyway… not entirely unlike a criminal. I must have opened this side door a hundred times, and each _effing_ time it gave me trouble.

On mornings like this, I had a sneaking suspicion that the building was trying to convince me to just _look at the time_, _woman_. Go back home, have some breakfast with Alice… she would definitely stay home with me. Hell, maybe we would change back into our pajamas and watch movies all day, like we used to…

My key ring jingled mockingly. _Ugh, come ON._

I needed to get to work. I needed to drink my tea. But first, I needed to open this fucking door.

It finally swung open without dousing my reports or my Chanel shoes with hot beverage. My sigh echoed off the marble walls of the main lobby. _So far so good._

The bullpen was sepia colored in the filtered light of dawn. Pausing for a moment in the lobby, I fussed with my reports and enjoyed my brief freedom from prying, judging eyes. I flipped on the lights and made my way back to my desk, enjoying the silence around me.

The city below the window was just starting to stir, slowly waking to face another day.

I had tunnel vision today. There wasn't going to be any distractions by colors or smells or buzzing _anything_. I was focused. I was ready.

Yesterday was not acceptable; my behavior absolutely inexcusable. First I had allowed Mike Newton to get to me. Then, instead of taking Emmett's sincere kindness with dignity, I had flushed and flustered like an idiot. Finally, Charlie's naked contempt for me wasn't unexpected… so why did I have to let it affect me so damn much? That situation in particular needed to stop _right now._ Charlie wasn't my father here—he was Mr. Swan, my boss. He wasn't my father in any location, really…

I told myself that made it easier.

Also, this Mr. Masen situation was done. Period. I had acted like _such_ a fool. The swooning, the stuttering…

I shook my head and I powered on my computer, grimacing at the still-fresh memory. It was humiliating. This crush was ridiculous and completely one-sided and I just had to _get over it_. Physically reacting that way to someone who you had literally spoken to only once, who barely knew that you were alive… who _worked_ with you. That absolutely couldn't go on. It wouldn't.

I wouldn't let it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Last night's drive home had been a total blur. My days were typically draining, but yesterday… _sweet__ Jesus_.

The moment I walked in the door of our townhouse Alice had immediately leapt off the couch and stood before me, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"Well?" Her dark brown eyes sparkled like Christmas lights. Alice's oval face looked perpetually excited, and right now she was positively vibrating.

I set my purse down on the side table and slowly faced her. Her face fell slightly at my hesitation, but her eyes never left mine. I inhaled deeply… and beamed a grin at her.

"They asked for me!"

"Aaaaaggghhh!!" Alice's arms went around my neck as she leapt, laughing and spinning. I was few inches taller than Alice and had a good twenty five pounds on her, but she propelled me backward by the sheer force of her enthusiasm.

"Oh Bella, I knew you could do it!" She crushed me tighter before taking my hand and leading me over to the couch. "Tell me everything. Was the waiting as awful as you thought it was going to be?"

I sank down on the couch, finally kicking off those goddamn shoes. I reached up and unpinned my long hair, letting it fall around my shoulders in thick waves.

With my legs curled up securely under me, I rubbed my eyes and told her everything, from my nerves in the elevator to Mike's weird advances to the email… and finally the scene with Charlie. She listened intently, gasping and swearing in all the appropriate places. When I got to Charlie, her eyes grew sad and she took my hand again.

"I'm sorry that happened, Bella. That must have been really awful." I patted her fingers, appreciative for the physical contact.

Alice was amazing. One of a kind. We were like opposite sides of the same coin: where she was light-hearted and flighty, I was serious and driven. While her enthusiasm practically burst out of her by the seams, I was introverted, much more reserved. But I didn't think of us as opposites, but rather compliments. Dance partners. Symbiotic beings.

We had met our very first night in the dorms at the University of Washington. We'd been assigned to live together, sight-unseen. I had been uncomfortable and definitely out of my element. Up until then, my nights had typically been spent studying, or reading, or practicing with my dancing instructor. But in the dorm, there were just so many people around… yelling down from windows, running down the hallway or thumping below or above me… I had been nervous, but my famous Swan "nothing can bother me" exterior that I had inherited from Charlie was getting me through awkward introductions and promises to "hang out" later.

Really, I just wanted to hide under my crisp new twin-sized sheets.

Alice and I first locked eyes amidst staked brown boxes. We had both been surprised to find that, while everyone else seemed to have a tearful mother, a stoic father or a bored looking sibling milling about, neither Alice nor I had anyone there for us. Charlie was away on a business trip and my mother had been… wherever she went. Alice was an orphan who had been living with her elderly aunt for the majority of her life who hadn't been feeling up to making the trip from Georgia. My sense of kinship with her was quiet and immediate.

We exchanged hellos: mine had been cordial, with the offer of a handshake. Alice's salutation had been ebullient, bypassing my outstretched hand and immediately grabbing me in a rib-splintering hug.

We made comfortable small talk as we settled in. I had intended on spending my first night in the dorm quietly. Putting things away, studying the campus map, _maybe_ venturing out of my room to meet a few people. Nothing too exciting, as I wanted to be well-rested for my classes the nest day.

At the time, I didn't know to question Alice's innocent-sounding yet insistent suggestion for a walk around campus. _C'mon Bella. It'll be fast,_ she had said. _Nothing too intense, let's just stretch our legs and get to know one another._ After some consideration, I had accepted.

Forty five minutes later, I found myself sitting next to her in the "borrowed" campus security golf cart hitting speed bumps at whatever maximum speed a golf cart can reach.

I had held on to the metal frame for dear life and wracked my brain as to why I had _sat_ _down_ on the fucking thing, let alone how she got me to stay on while she hot-wired it alive. But Alice was just so damn _convincing_, this five foot nothing hurricane who had sat next to me laughing and pointing out things around campus, like a tiny, overly-enthusiastic tour guide… not like someone how had just stolen campus property. (_Borrowed_, still clarified years later.)

_She might be actually insane_, I had thought wildly. _The second this cart stops, I am _sprinting_ straight to my RA and begging for a room reassignment. _

But two hours after that, I hadn't returned to my room. Rather, I was crouched behind a low-lying brick wall, hair soaking wet and shoes missing. My arms were locked firmly around Alice's tiny waist and we muffled our giggles in the other's shoulders. We tried to shrink away from the sweeping flashlight beams that were searching for the lunatics who had been swimming in the fountain.

I'd never been more scared, more nervous at getting caught… or had _ever_ had more fun in my entire life.

Thus was my initiation into the world of Alice Brandon.

From that day on, we were inseparable. We had been roommates for the rest of our college careers and beyond, even during our summer abroad in Germany. When we had finished our undergrad and I had decided to pursue my MBA, Alice went after her Master's degree in Kinesiology and Sports Medicine. Truth be told, I was the more natural student, but Alice was an unstoppable object who could do anything she was determined to do. If I was the brain of the operation, she was the heart.

Today, while I was surviving in the corporate world, Alice worked full-time as a nutritionist and personal trainer for rich Seattleites. We found that even our vocations harmonized with one another: hers kept me in phenomenal shape, and I balanced her bank accounts. I did, however, have to endure the occasional lecture on why Thin Mint cookies were one day going to kill me, and I nagged her nearly constantly about how vital it was for her business to come up with a budget and actually stick to the damn thing.

We had gone through plenty together. The breakup of Alice's doomed engagement had been a very dark time in our lives, and my mother… well, that was what it was. Our loyal was unwavering, and the support constant and ferocious. My friendship with Alice was natural and eternal. She was my only real family, and I hers.

"It's going to be difficult, Ali." I rolled my pearls between my fingers, tugging and twisting the smooth white orbs. "I have so much to do in so little time… They want the presentation on Friday, which means I essentially have three days to get this thing together. We'll have to hustle to put our two reports together and make sure it's cohesive…"

"Who is 'we'? It's not Mike, is it? Oh shit, Charlie didn't stick you with him, did he?"

"No, not him, thank god." My eyes briefly cut away, and when I looked back up her eyes were wide and curious. _Dammit_. She knew me too well.

I tried to sound nonchalant. "I have to work with some IT representative… Edward Masen." _Because it really is no big deal._

Alice uncrossed her legs and searched my face. "WHAT? The green-eyed computer nerd for whom you've been pining away?"

I groaned, instantly embarrassed. I had mentioned Edward before, but never directly admitted to any attraction or… crush.

_Ugh. I sound like a 13 year old._

"You didn't think _that_ was important enough to mention?" she said incredulously.

I huffed, brushing my hair back from my forehead. "There's nothing _to_ mention. We were assigned to work together on this account, and besides the massive workload there isn't any more to tell."

I leaned back and pouted, ignoring her skeptical stare and mulling over my own words. I was being honest; we were being forced to work together, nothing more. It's not like we'd chosen to work together. It's not like we were willing partners; he definitely hadn't volunteered to work with the stiff CEO's daughter who never smiled or laughed…

Edward _hadn't_ approached my desk, eyes blazing…

He hadn't leaned down to put his hands on either side of my chair, or pressed his lean frame into my shivering body… his hard chest had never been within reaching distance from my trembling hands… perfect, full lips hadn't hovered just inches away from mine… his warm whisper hadn't swept across my face…

_Bella… _

I shook my head vigorously._ Nope_. That is certainly not what happened.

Alice smirked at me. "Oh no, obviously nothing else to tell." She rolled her eyes.

This day just needed to end. I was still embarrassed by my ridiculous non-fantasy, and I was determined to remain deliberately obtuse. "I don't know what you mean, you devil."

Alice stood up, shaking her head. "In all of our years as friends, I have never _once_ seen a look on your face like the one you just had while you were thinking of him. Do _not_ try to deny it." She held up her hands when I opened my mouth. "Your blush is a dead give-away, Bella."

_Dammit_.

"I won't press this… for now." Alice leaned down to me and stroked my hair once, her tiny fingers winding into my curls.

"Just… try to keep an open mind… and heart. Okay? Just try." And then wisely, she walked away.

I sat, stunned yet again. I exhaled roughly and realized that I was blushing furiously from, of all things, a fantasy stemming from an exchange that _did __not_ _happen_. Further, my hands were wringing my skirt material and my nipples were once again tight under my white shirt.

_What the _fuck_ is happening to me today?_

I shot up from the couch and up to my room. I was out of my work clothes and into my running gear in less than two minutes, hastily grabbing my iPod and GPS watch on my way out the door.

Anxious to taste the outside air, I called out to Alice, "I'm going for a run… I'll be back soon."

Her soft giggle floated down the stairs. "Of course you are. Be careful, please."

I scowled as I locked my front door. Sometimes I resented how well Alice knew me.

The sun was just starting to set, the sky above tinted with watercolors; pink and lavender stained glass. I hit the sidewalk and immediately started an intense clip; a warm-up required patience, and I simply had none left in me today. I needed to feel my muscles ache. I didn't know where I was going… I just needed to move.

Running was not a hobby or casual pastime with me. It was essential. I had been running since high school, and I had even earned an alternate spot on the track team at the University. But running had become vital to me in my first year of college, after… everything.

During those dark days, when my heart would fill and throb and endeavor to weaken my resolve… when the overwhelming sadness would creep into my rigid thoughts, or when the tears welled and threatened to spill over onto my cheeks… when I would _feel_… I would run. I would race my own consciousness, until my thoughts were anesthetized and the jagged edges of reality blunted.

Running made me feel in control when the rest of my life had felt frayed. If it had before served to train my mind to forcibly pound and sweat and force my irrational and wasted passion into submission, I now ran to maintain that rigorous self-control. If I had to put a name to it, I suppose "addiction" would be a fair label. I depended on the numbness as much as the running itself. Alice had stopped questioning me about it long ago, having taken now to accepting my habit and simply imploring me to "be careful." I often doubted that she just meant physically, outdoors, alone.

But ultimately, her concern was ultimately unnecessary. There was anything wrong with my particular coping mechanism. We're all addicted to something, right? Some people drink, others do drugs or eat or pick up random people in bars just to feel connected to someone for a few hours.

_It could be worse,_ I reasoned on more than one occasion while looking at Alice's pleading, worried eyes. _This is at least healthy for me._

Nothing wrong with running.

Now, as the dull static thudded hollowly in my ears, I tumbled into the void and all I could hear was my screaming muscles and steady cadence of my own feet.

But as the darkened cityscape I moved through slowly transformed into pastoral suburbia, a solitary thought, abrupt and unwelcome, penetrated my blissful mental white noise.

_He makes me feel out of control. _

I pushed myself harder, my pace staccato in the still night.

_Christ, I couldn't _be_ more absurd._ Even Alice had noticed my juvenile behavior. I couldn't allow myself to be distracted by anything, especially this man… This client had to be everything to me. I couldn't mess this up.

Perfection was the only option.

I took in my surroundings. I had never been in this neighborhood before. I continued on, obstinately seeking to regain my control. Occasionally I passed another jogger, and I envied their slow, carefree pace.

They obviously weren't running from anything.

I realized with remorse that the static was gone; my meditation entirely defeated. However, I ran even harder, forcing my muscles forward. My breath escaped my body in hard bursts. I had no idea how long I had been out here… the sky was now dark, streetlights illuminating my path.

I regretted not grabbing a sweatshirt. Sweat rolled down my back and my tank top stuck to my overheated skin, the wind cutting straight to my bones. I reached up and rubbed my neck, and my own slick touch instantly sparked another unwanted vision…

_Smoldering green eyes burning into mine. A strong hand on the back of my neck, slowly sliding up into my hair, threading through the damp strands as he pulls my head back, demanding better excess. _

_His other hand wrapping around my waist, claiming, slipping down my warm, wet back, before firmly gripping my hip with deft fingers. _

_My breasts pushing, straining, caught between his hard chest and my thrumming heart. _

_Panting as he pushes me back into the wet grass. My tongue tracing a sticky path along the column of his neck… _

_He tastes like salted flesh… and honey…_

I jerked to a complete stop. I put both hands on my hips and tilted my head up to the dark sky.

_Shit shit shit_.

My lungs burned as I pulled the crisp night air deep into my chest.

A tidal wave of desperation crashed over me, threatening to knock me down. My legs hummed and my gasps were audible in the muted night.

I tried desperately to reason with myself: This was completely unrealistic. As unreasonable and irrational as it was, I couldn't deny the effect that he was having on my mind… and my body.

I couldn't run fast enough to avoid the truth. I felt… _something_ for Edward Masen.

_This. Stops. _Now_. _

But that wasn't all. It wasn't just the fact that Edward's mere existence seemed to threaten my concentration, my career… This ache I was trying desperately to suppress wasn't just because of our professional connection, goddamn it.

A growl threatened to rip from my throat as I accepted the more painful reason that this _couldn't_ continue…

He would never want me.

The bitter truth coated my tongue. I was cold and introverted and a work-whore, and I _had_ to accept that he wasn't a possibility for me. I wasn't fun, or open, or the life of any party. I couldn't offer anything personal to anyone right now, let alone that Adonis.

This was unlike anything I had ever experienced. It was visceral and intense, like touching a live wire to my bare skin… but he was _not_ irresistible. He couldn't be. The fact that I was allowing this fantasy to assault me uninvited was beyond frustrating.

Admitting you have a problem is the first step, right?

Okay, then. _Hi, my name is Isabella Swan and I want to lick you. _

Smiling weakly, I felt better that I could at least joke about this. Maybe this wasn't as bleak as I thought. Rationalizing my situation made me feel more in control. I felt stronger.

I began to walk quickly, attempting to stave off the cramps that were beginning to knot in my calves. I checked my GPS watch: nearly 8 miles in 56 minutes. _Geez_. I'd been running like the devil was after me.

All of a sudden I just wanted to be home in my bed. I knew Alice would be waiting for me in my bedroom with a Blu-Ray queued up and a pint of organic soy ice cream on the nightstand, as was always the case when I returned from these kinds of runs.

_Enough for tonight._

Though I had never been to this exact neighborhood before, I had a pretty good sense of direction and figured it wouldn't take me more than 20 minutes to get back at a slower, non-punishing pace.

I was surprised to see someone in front of me now, running a full-out sprint. It was fairly late and the cold far too bone-chilling for any sane person to be out here, so I was immediately on guard. He was moving almost as fast as I had been before, and I half expected to see Satan himself nipping at his heels, too.

I squinted at the tall runner as he put more distance between us… and I felt like I was missing something, like the lyrics to a song the tickled the back of your eyelids and sat just beyond the reach of your tongue.

His back was broad and fairly nondescript. My eyes couldn't help but appreciate the hard muscles rolling under his wet white t-shirt. His calf muscles flexed under each heavy stride, like thick ropes under taut skin. His hair… His hair was bronze, wild and damp, curling at his neck…

_No._

He never lost his rhythm as he ran a hand through the wavy tresses.

_There's no way._

Incredulously, I stared. My eyes never left his sticky back and neck.

The runner rapidly crossed the street and turned the corner, out of my field of vision. I never saw his face…

_It wasn't him, _I thought adamantly_._ I was out here to escape him, not to find him…

What were the odds of seeing him in a random neighborhood in Seattle? On a Monday night, sprinting like a crazy person? Like _me_?

But while my thoughts were determined to deny it, my body knew the truth. I could smell the tanned leather in the air, made potent by slick sweat. Adrenaline surged through my veins, blistering and confusing.

_Enough_. I thought again. My shoulders slumped. I turned off my music and walked home in churning silence.

Tomorrow, I had to be better.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

_Ding_.

The sound of an email startled me back to reality. I had been completely lost in my notes, which were stacked in piles around me. My Outlook revealed that I had an email from Angela.

So far, my Tuesday had been a complete success. I had stayed steadfastly focused on the Cullen presentation and purposefully ignorant to anything or _anyone_ else. I allowed myself to be momentarily pleased: it was already 3pm and I hadn't allowed myself to think about anything but work all day.

Well, maybe for a _second,_ I'd stumbled slightly.

Today, he was wearing charcoal grey pants and a tailored light grey shirt, with the top two buttons cruelly left undone. No tie. His hair was impossible as ever, but my mind's eye saw it wet and curled, and his back wet and slippery.

I had immediately torn my eyes away and heaved my thoughts back to projected expense reports.

Mind of over matter.

I opened the email from Angela. The first part was to let me know that she had contacted Rosalie Hale, the Cullen's executive assistant, and set up a time for the meeting. I appreciated Angela's efficiency.

The second half of the email was much more troubling.

It was only one sentence, brief and naked. It was a formal request for me to allow Mike Newton access to my private calendar.

My eyebrows furrowed, and I looked up toward Angela's desk. She stared fixedly down at her monitor. Even from across the large room I could detect her obvious discomfort. I typed a quick reply.

_Ms. Weber, _

_Thank you for setting up the meeting time. _

_Curious: Is there a specific reason that Mr. Newton would need to see my schedule?_

_Thank you._

I hit send and watched her face. A few seconds later I took in her pained expression and sigh as she began to type. Quickly, I had a response.

_Ms. Swan,_

_Mr. Swan thought it would be best if Mike could have access to your calendar so he could monitor your progress on the Cullen project. He asked that I send the request._

I re-read the message twice. I slowly looked back up at Angela, who was already looking at me with a pained expression. _I'm sorry,_ she mouthed.

I couldn't be angry at her; it wasn't her fault my father didn't trust me, nor was it her fault that Mike was an arrogant prick. I nodded at her, trying to look as natural as possible; she looked relieved.

I went to my calendar and sent a share invite to Mike, cc'ing Angela and my father. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Mike lean back, a self-righteous smile twisting his porcelain smooth skin. He looked my way with shameless enthusiasm. I wanted to throw a stapler at his head.

My anger on a low simmer, I let out a slow breath and turned my attention back to my work.

I could allow myself a small pat on the back; I had made great progress today. The entire presentation outline was nearly completed and I was currently crunching numbers for a three month budget projection. I had also started on the summary hand-out to give to the Cullens. Tomorrow I would spend all day creating spreadsheets. _Sexy_.

I calmed myself by thinking through my to-do list for the next two days. I had a really promising idea for an advertising campaign. Unfortunately, I was shit at drawing. Alice could sketch a little, but I needed something more… professional. Something special. Something to really make them see they had picked the right woman to get this job accomplished…

And just like that, I had the answer. I was surprised I hadn't already made this call. I reached for my phone and dialed a familiar number.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Jasper? It's Bella."

"Bells!" Jasper laughed cheerfully. "I'm so glad to hear from you! It's been a while, babe!"

My heart swelled at the friendly tone; such an unfamiliar reaction in this environment. "I know. It's entirely my fault."

It was true. Jasper and I had a rare, natural connection; our friendship was easy and uncomplicated. However, I was ashamed that I had cancelled many a dinner date with him in the recent months due to late-nights at here at this very desk.

Jasper chuckled. "I forgive you. Working a little too hard, huh? Shocker."

I laughed out loud, and Mike's head snapped up. I blushed and looked away, ducking my face out of his line of sight.

"You could definitely say that, yeah."

I had met Jasper in grad school. We were both in the MBA program and had many of the same classes. Besides being an incredibly gifted artist, Jasper was also a savvy entrepreneur and knew that to run a business he needed more than talent alone. He had put himself through business school by doing some free-lance designing and dabbling in the stock market. Jasper was wholly unique, a free spirit in the truest sense. He was usually a mess of color and words, a whirling dervish of ideas and stories and randomness. He was loose and relaxed and everything that I was not.

Today, he ran his own very successful, if modest, graphic design business. Despite efforts, I had yet to convince him to let me manage his business and make him a millionaire. I'd offered to charge him only Thai food and beer, but so far still no luck.

"How are you, besides working yourself to death?"

I rubbed small circles in the underside of my desk with my index finger. "Fine. Work is hard, but rewarding. Long hours, corporate-schmoozing, stress… just like I always dreamed."

"Okay… but I asked how _you_ were, not your job." I smiled again. Just like Alice, Jasper never let me get away with anything.

"I'm… stressed. But okay."

I heard Jasper grunt. "There's got to be a reason that the beautiful Bella Swan has graced me with a phone call."

I grimaced. "I wish I could say that I just called just to talk, Jazz. If it means anything, I'm going to try much harder to do that more often." And I really meant it. Hearing his voice, I realized that I missed Jasper terribly. I missed a lot of things. "But today, I have a bit of a business proposition for you."

I told him about the situation with the Cullens, the sheer magnitude of their account, and how important it was to my career to do well at this next meeting. Jasper whooped and cheered for me, as I knew he would; he was always genuinely excited for me whenever something good came my way. However, when I explained that they also wanted to create a new advertising campaign, his enthusiasm quieted and I could tell he was listening hard.

"… and I thought of you. Are you interested?"

He sputtered. "Are you kidding me? Fuck yes, I'm interested!"

I laughed soundlessly, feeling the tight coil in my chest loosen even so slightly. I wondered why I was trying so hard to hide my happiness from the office; did it really matter that I had one human emotion? To let _him_ see that I at least have the _ability_ to feel?

_Yes. It does matter._ I cleared my throat and wiped my face of unnecessary expression.

Jasper and I discussed what the Cullen project would need. I told him the basic theme that had in mind, and Jasper took the idea and spun it into something amazing. By the time we were done, I was getting genuinely excited.

"You're damn good, Jazz. I cannot _wait_ to see what you come up with. Tomorrow at my office, around 3 o'clock?" I set the appointment in my Outlook, rolling my eyes when I realized that Mike would probably ask about it now that he shared my calendar.

"That sounds great, Bella." I could hear papers rustling in the background. "Listen, seriously—thank you so much for this opportunity. If this goes well… this could change my business. It could change my life."

"Jasper, you and me both." I angled my face toward the window. "I couldn't imagine working with anyone else on this. I want the best, so I go with the best."

"I look forward to seeing you tomorrow then. Maybe we could get drinks or something this weekend?"

Oh wow. I couldn't even remember the last time I had set foot in a bar. "Sure Jazz, that sounds great."

"I'll hold you to that." Jasper paused. I heard him take a slow breath. "So… how is Alice?" I sighed softly.

During grad school, Jasper used to hang out with me and Alice all the time. We spent almost every weekend together, studying and shopping, watching baseball games and cooking elaborate dinners for us in our little kitchen. We had clicked immediately, and I was so glad that my two closest friends had gotten along so well. I knew it when Jasper had laughed wildly at Alice the first day we had all hung out, when she leapt up on the couch, jumping and cursing like a sailor over a bad call for the Mariners.

Jasper, being the incredibly loyal and hopelessly romantic man that he was, had fallen hopelessly and silently in love with her from that moment on.

Unfortunately, Alice at the time had still been engaged to her high school sweetheart. Embry had been tall and handsome and stupid as a box of rocks, with an unfortunate penchant for cheating on Alice. Often. I had watched Jasper watch _her_ for months, suffering in a reverent silence. It made my heart ache.

When Alice's engagement had finally dissolved, Jasper had respectfully stepped back, wanting to give her space… but had never stepped up back, despite my insistent prodding. Days turned into weeks turned into years, and Jasper had stopped coming over as much as he did when we were students. However, without fail, he asked about Alice whenever we spoke.

"She's doing great, Jazz. She's been super busy with clients lately. She loves it." He remained silent, so I continued. "Maybe she could meet us when we go out, huh?"

I could hear Jasper's even breathing, and I wondered if I had said the right thing. Then, softly, he said, "It was really good talking with you, Bella. And thanks again."

I hung up, saddened by Jasper's sudden somber tone. I'd have to remember to talk with him about it…

"What was so funny, Bella?" Mike's voice ripped away my positive mood with a jerk. "Until today, I didn't know that you _could_ laugh."

My anger started to boil. My cheeks flared, but I kept my breathing calm and even.

"Hello, Mr. Newton. You seem to have a lot of free time right now. Are you taking a break?" I refused to meet his eyes and instead busied my hands by shuffling through my paperwork. No response. I kept my eyes down, broadcasting murderous thoughts. Mike remained still, his presence unavoidable.

Unexpectedly, he pressed his hand flat onto the papers I was holding, his fingers splayed out wide. I raised my head and looked up at him, my cheeks tinting pink. Mike rarely shocked me, but I was definitely shocked right now.

"Nope." His blue eyes flitted back and forth between mine. "I was just wondering what your meeting was about tomorrow, and how you were holding up with all of this responsibility sitting on your pretty shoulders." His tone was so patronizing, even my scalp burned. "Do you need my help coming up with a plan? I'd be more than happy to give you some… extra attention."

My face went blank. I leaned back and placed my hands on the desk. I did not smile.

"My meeting is business related. And thank you for your offer, Mr. Newton, but I can handle myself."

We both sat there a moment longer, Mike's eyes challenging mine. I refused to turn away.

He finally chuckled softly and stood up. "Well, when you need me, you know where I sit." Finger guns.

Despite my best efforts to deny it, I was shaken up. I was frustrated that he had gotten to me again. I lowered my head and aimlessly shuffled my notes, hoping that Mike hadn't seen my discomfort. It was bad enough that he heard my casual conversation with Jasper.

I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling the uneasy tension from yesterday once again gripping my chest. I needed to get a hold of myself, to focus. _What if someone else had heard me giggling like a schoolgirl with Jasper? _Hot embarrassment crept up my neck.

_I never behave like this_. I was so disappointed in myself for the last two days. My resolve was usually steel, shiny smooth and constant. So what the fuck was going on with me? Laughing like I was a child, getting all worked up and upset about situations and words and fucking jawlines. I felt twisted, unanchored.

I heard footsteps approaching my desk, and I immediately ducked my head lower, trying to look busy. _Jesus, Mike, enough. _My muscles in my forearms contracted and my body tensed.

"I _said_ I was handling it," I said through clenched teeth. "I am very busy here and I would appreciate no further distractions." I paused and waiting for some condescending retort… but no words came. Suddenly, I realized that my olfactory system wasn't being assaulted by cheap cologne…

I smelled leather and rain and honey.

As my eyes snapped up, I saw Edward taking a step back, smiling apologetically. "Of course, Ms. Swan."

I was horrified. My brain filled with static.

_No. Oh, no_.

I wanted desperately to go back in time ten seconds. I wanted to explain my rudeness… mostly, I just wanted to _say_ something, anything, instead of just fucking staring up at him with wide eyes.

"Mr. Masen…" I started. I drew in a breath. "I thought…"

"No, please. I apologize for interrupting." He took another step back. "I'll talk with you later, at a better time." Of course, because he was the gentleman that Mike wasn't.

Edward really smiled at me then—the crooked smile that my fingertips had tentatively stroked last night in a dream. I had woken overheated, alone, covered in clammy sweat.

He walked away, and I sagged back into my chair. I was filled with nervous energy. I wanted to jump up and grasp at his arms, irrationally driven to fix this last encounter… make him understand that his presence was the only fucking thing I craved…

But instead, I stared at his back.

I idly wondered what his skin would feel like underneath my fingernails…

_I'm losing it._

I was already dialing Alice before I realized I was doing it.

"Hi Bella! It's work-time, what are you doing?" Her voice tinkled in my ear.

"Alice!" I struggled to keep my voice calm. This morning had gone so well, exactly according to plan… what has happening to me?

My voice must have displayed the same desperate edge that was gnawing at my frayed edges, because immediately Alice was all business.

"What happened?"

"Ali, Charlie made me share my calendar, and then Mike touched my papers, and then I was rude to Edward!" The words poured out of my mouth; my heart raced and my face burned.

"Okay, hold up. First off, do you mean the Edward who 'wasn't anything to mention?' _That_ Edward ?" I could tell she was smiling again. I shut my eyes.

"Alice, I was so discourteous to him right now, and he was so nice, and he smiled at me all crooked…" My forehead was moist. I was absolutely horrified at myself.

_What. The. Fuck._

Alice was laughing now. I had only called her from work like this twice before: once during those first three months of hell, and the other on a particularly miserable day when my tire had blown, I had deleted a very important file and had to ask Emmett for help, and I had almost broken my ankle in the torture-devices that she had made me strap to my feet that morning. This was a rare moment indeed.

"Bella. You are _never_ careless or unprofessional, so I bet it's not as bad as you think it is."

I ran my finger along my mouse. My eyebrows furrowed and I looked around the room. "You don't work with me."

"Bella," Alice said again, more firmly. "Finish your work, and go talk to him."

"Alice, I can't. One: just no. Two: why on earth would he have anything to say to me now, after _that_? And three," I bowed my head, mentally bracing myself for the truth before it escaped my mouth. "…I am a stuttering puddle of goo when he is around."

There it was. I said it. Out loud. To another person.

I heard Alice take in a sharp breath. "Oh, wow." She was silent for a moment, obviously stunned by my honesty. I had before never admitted to her that I let a man affect me like this.

_Please please please be kind, you little gnome, _I begged wordlessly._ Don't coo and tell me how 'cute' I am being. I might gag._

She cleared her throat. I braced myself.

"You have to work with him," she said simply. I cocked my head; her serious tone was unexpected. "You have to put together a presentation, right?"

"Yes," I replied cautiously.

"Then the solution is easy," she continued briskly. "Go find him and work out a time to meet to discuss the presentation."

I once again remembered why I loved Alice. She knew exactly what I needed to hear: focus on the job at hand.

My spine straightened. My head felt more clear. "Exactly right, Ms. Brandon." I brushed back my hair. "I'll see you when I get home, then."

"Oh yes. Later, Ms. Swan. We have _much_ to talk about." I cringed, but I knew she'd earned it. I would give her details later… _Some_ details.

I hung up my phone and looked at my clock: 4:56pm. I could already hear the soft rustling of imminent departure coming from around the office. Edward was seated at an IT desk, in the far corner of the room. He was sitting profile to me, his jaw flexed as he stared at the computer screen in front of him. I watched him covertly from under my eyelashes, my pen poised like I was signing something…

Or signing something away.

_Go. Just do it. Like pulling off a band-aid._ I stood up.

I walked along the carpet briskly, resolute, eyes fixed on that jaw line.

_Mr. Masen, I was hoping we could schedule a time to meet and work on the Cullen presentation. _

_Mr. Masen, pardon me please, but are you free tomorrow afternoon to go over the Cullen account? _

_Mr. Masen, I was wondering, which side of the bed do you prefer to sleep on?_

Ugh.

I was about ten feet from him when he looked up. The electric green current jolted down my spine, jittered down my stomach, and settled in my thighs. My mind stuttered but I kept my stride. Our eyes were locked… and I almost ran directly in to Jessica, who stepped into my path and blocked Edward from my vision.

"Excuse me, Edward." Jessica's voice was high and false. "Would you do me a _huge_ favor and please take a look at something?" Her long blonde hair hung straight down her back. She was taller than me anyway, but in her five inch heels she towered above my head.

She looked down, feigning surprise. "Oh! Ms. Swan, I didn't see you there. Did you need something?" Her thin eyebrows lifted and she leaned her head to one side. Behind her, Edward was still looking at me, blazing and intense.

It was easy to pretend in front of Jessica. "Nothing at all, Ms. Stanley. Excuse me."

I continued on my path, shifting ever so slightly so I was now angled toward the hallway where the private restrooms were, hoping it looked like that was my intended path all along. The ladies room was on my left.

As I pushed on the door, I couldn't help but turn my head and look back in his direction. Jessica was leaning over Edward's desk, practically reclining across his thick thighs. Her black skirt was high and shamelessly tight, wrapped around jutting hips. Her pink sweater was treacherously low cut. To Edward's credit, his eyes were fixed straight down at the paper she was pointing at, his hands flat on the desktop.

My noisy exhale echoed off marble walls as I tried to slow my racing heart. I walked up to the full length mirror and peered at my reflection, and what I saw was a stark difference from the blonde succubus outside of the door.

My thick chestnut hair was pinned up—I always kept it up at work. I was suddenly anxious to pull out the bobby pins and free my natural curl that I held captive all day. I ran my hands down my naked neck and scrutinized the face looking back at me: heart-shaped, with a small straight nose, dark eyebrows and long eyelashes. High cheekbones, full pink lips, pale skin. I tended to wear very little make-up. Jessica, on the other hand, looked like she worked in a nightclub.

I fussed with the wide neck of my cream-colored sweater that Alice had picked out the night before. She loved to dress me and long ago I had given up fighting her on it. I loved this green skirt: designer, form-fitted until mid-thigh and then flared out. Alice had also decided on these shoes, allowing no room for discussion: the black leather, knee-high, Chanel boots with the sharp stiletto heel. _Professional vixen,_ she had insisted, winking as she pulled them out of my closet. I had rolled my eyes and pretended not to notice that they tag-teamed with this skirt and made my ass look amazing. I sighed. Not that it mattered to anyone. _Not that it should._

_Okay. Enough procrastinating._

I was plain and as fashionable as I was ever going to be, and I still had to go over there and talk to him. Even if Jessica were lying spread-eagle on his desk… and I wouldn't put it past her…

I had to get over this.

_He's just a co-worker, Bella. A computer guy. A man. A hard-bodied, leather smelling, honey flavored man._ I determinedly swept my bangs off my forehead and left the bathroom.

_Oh thank you. _Jessica was gone, and Edward was once again sitting alone at his desk, eyes fixed on his monitor. He was absently rubbing his jaw with his right hand.

I hesitated, adjusting the hem of my sweater. He must have caught my movement because he looked up then and met my eyes. I almost forgot how to walk.

"Mr. Masen." My voice was strong and calm; this encouraged me as I approached him. "I am not interrupting your work with Ms. Stanley, am I?"

He rolled his eyes and his lips formed a small smile. My stomach flipped at the casual gesture; intimate and relaxed. "Absolutely not, no." His was voice liquid velvet. Green eyes chuckled at me from behind thick lashes. He stopped, still smiling. Waiting.

"I wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier." My cool formality was at odds with his warm presence. I pushed ahead. "For being so rude. I thought you were… someone else." _It's okay to be rude to someone else, right? Smooth Swan._

"Oh?" Edward turned his head slightly; he shot a look at Mike's now empty desk. "Anyone I know?" He ran his hand through his hair and smiled at me. Crookedly. _Dammit._ I immediately flushed._ Stupid skin_.

I cleared my throat and my own lips twitched, almost betraying me. "Perhaps."

His long fingers once again found his hair. My hands trembled; I wondered what those bronze locks would feel like threaded through my fingers. I knew his hair curled when it was damp…

"Please don't apologize. It's already forgotten." His full lips were perfect. I was letting him dazzle me again…

Before I could convince myself not to, I was smiling back at him. Really smiling.

_Oh Jesus. _

As tightly wound as I had been that last two days at just the _thought_ of Edward Masen, I now found myself… _relaxing_ as I stood near him?

I momentarily wondered if I might be going insane. However, that in that instant, I couldn't find it in me to care enough to turn away.

His mouth curled up on the right side. The air between us was thick and warm.

"Anyway, I also wanted to congratulate you," my mouth continued on. My nerves were blazing. I felt jittery and brave, and high on the energy he seemed to be exuding, "on being selected for the Cullen account."

"I could definitely say the same for you." One of his hands settled on his desktop, the other rested on top his stupid luscious thigh. I felt myself instantly flush, realizing in horror that it sounded like I had been fishing for a compliment.

"Oh no, that's not what I meant… I didn't mean me… I just thought that your presentation was excellent." I stammered, feeling horribly awkward. _How can I let this man make me feel so many different things at once? _I had started off doing so well, and then I had to go off script and look like an idiot.

My face was on fire, and the knowledge that my embarrassment covered my face like red paint furthered my humiliation. I stood there silently, shifting my weight from one spiked boot to the other. He, on the other hand, looked completely at ease, his face not betraying a single hint as to what he was thinking. _He unnerves me. That's a good way to describe it._

I brushed my bangs back behind my ear. "Anyway… it looks like we will be working together." _And the sky is blue, Seattle is rainy, and you look phenomenal in grey, too. Way to go, Captain Obvious._

He nodded, agreeing with my groundbreaking observation. "How are your reports coming?" He leaned back in his chair, his fingers lacing together across his excruciatingly flat stomach.

I paused. He was trying to converse with me. Our exchange was become dangerously… normal. I realized that I didn't want it to end.

I couldn't look away from him. It was like I was watching myself from a distance, like some kind of weird out of body experience. This office was a place of focus, of restraint, of sensory deprivation. Talking with Edward now, hearing his silky voice, even standing near him now made me _feel_ like a different person.

My senses were alive and humming under my skin. Right this second, I wasn't Isabella Swan: consummately professional, militantly disciplined, the picture of restraint. For just a moment, for a pithy flash, I knew I was someone capable of social interaction and who maybe, just maybe, could connect with this exquisite creature in front of me. I felt… hopeful.

Electricity once again snapped between us. I tasted it on my tongue, sharp and acrid. I licked my lips.

"It's going very well, thank you. I believe I will be done with the outline by tomorrow."

He studied my face for a moment before he finally said, "You're being modest."

I blinked, surprised. _How did he know?_ In fact, I _was_ already past completing my outline. My reaction had been immediate and unconscious; I had a habit of wanting people to underestimate me, to not see me as a threat until it was too late. It worked with Mike like a charm.

Alice, of course, had a hypothesis. She always knew when I wasn't being completely forthcoming with how much work I had gotten done. When she called me out on it I was always apologetic, explaining that it was just a work habit and I really didn't meant to do it with her. I was real with her… or at least I tried to be. I needed to be.

"That's not why you do it, Bella."

"Oh really? Do tell."

"No." She shook her head. Her eyes were wide, nearly coal black, sad. "You do it because you don't want anyone to see how consumed with work you are. You do it to feel more normal."

Her revelation had shoved me backward into stupefied silence. It also had inspired an impromptu half-marathon run that night.

_Was she right?_ I'd wondered. _Was I …ashamed?_

No. I was just dedicated, and that was nothing about which to be embarrassed. The fact that I didn't take lunch breaks, that I got in early and stayed late into the night. That I basically _was_ my job…

_I'm a mess. This guy is in for it._

"Perhaps," I said again. My stupid face was burning red, and I lowered my eyes. I was going gooey again, and this was headed toward disaster. _I need to salvage what dignity I can and get out of here while I'm still a solid mass. _

I pressed my palms flat against my thighs and met his gaze, which had yet to leave my face.

_What was your point in coming over here, Swan? _I cleared my throat. "When do you think we can get together?" I stopped short and inhaled sharply. "To put together the presentation," I rushed to add.

_I might embarrass myself to death. Right here, in these boots. In front of him. _

Edward thought a moment. "Good question. I know I have some appointments tomorrow…" He turned slightly and clicked the calendar on this computer. "Oh. With my old company, actually."

"Black & Clearwater? On 56th Street?" I wanted to clamp my hand over my dumb, loose mouth. I had just blurted out way more information than I needed to acknowledge that I knew.

_That's something a stalker would know, Bella. A stuttering stalker who fishes for compliments and can't stop starting at his lips. Kill me now._

His head swiveled back toward me, that smile doing nothing to calm my ragged breathing. If I could have gotten away with it, there would have been nothing but a Bella-shaped cloud to indicate where I had been standing.

"Yes. That's them." He turned back to the monitor and I heaved out a silent breath. "I could email you my outline and the power point presentation by tomorrow afternoon, and then maybe Thursday we could meet up and finalize everything. Will that work for you?"

I nodded. I refused to say anything else, for fear my lips might act on their own accord and do something stupid again, like tell him how hopelessly sexy I found his arms. That would be whipped cream on top of the humble pie I was currently choking down.

He nodded back. "Great. It's set then." He had one final smile for me: crooked and authentic and undoubtedly honey flavored. "I will see you tomorrow, Ms. Swan."

"Mr. Masen," I said with finality. I spun away from him, probably a little too quickly. I was hyper aware of my hips swiveling ridiculously under my silly green skirt as I grabbed my purse and launched myself toward the lobby.

I never allowed myself to look back at him.

As the doors to the elevator slid shut in front of me, I finally put one hand up over my hot face.

_Yup. Nailed it._

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Bella, it couldn't possibly be as bad as you're saying." Alice's voice was muffled from inside of my closet and through the pillow I had firmly pressed over my face.

"No, Ali. It's definitely worse." I emerged from my soft shield and brushed my bangs back with vigor. "I have never behaved this way. Never _allowed_ myself to behave this way. When have you even known me to… to not be able to…"

"Control yourself?" She poked her head out and looked at me, a serious expression on her face. "Bella, why is that so terrible? To lose control?"

I lifted the pillow. I stared at her, my eyes wide. "Are you nuts? Alice, you know how hard I've worked." The panic I'd been struggling with all evening slowly began rising in my throat. "How much it has cost me to be where I am, to get this shot… How can I chance throwing it all away on this man… who makes me feel weak and unpolished and…"

Alice sat down on my bed and touched my hand. "… vulnerable?"

"Stop doing that." I nodded vigorously. "Yes."

"Bella… would it really be _so_ terrible to let your guard down a little bit? To take a chance?" I opened my mouth to tell her that yes, that would in fact be _so _terrible, but she continued through my almost-protest.

"Bella, you are in the position that you are in because you deserve it. You _earned_ his account." She was looking at me with such conviction, and I felt a swell of love for my best friend. "You are smart and talented and the most driven person I have even met in my life.

"But make no mistake about it: you have this shot because of who you are. Your success is not… I repeat, is _not…_ dependent on keeping everyone at arm's length, though I know you have spent countless hours and _miles_ convincing yourself that is exactly the case."

I huffed, stubbornly fighting her tenderness.

She gripped my hand harder, bending her head to seek my eyes. "I love you because you are funny and thoughtful and love to laugh. But I live with two Bellas: Wonderful Home Bella and Cold Work Ms. Swan."

My eyes snapped up to hers. We very rarely talked about this, about my work life. Alice was usually neutral Switzerland, just listening and absorbing and lending sympathy when needed. She was really saying something now, and I knew I needed to listen.

"I understand how difficult it is for you there. But the people in the office are cold to you because they don't _know_ you. You have never allowed them to. I'm not saying your reasons aren't valid, but that's the reality of your situation. And this guy, Edward… Who knows what the future holds for you two." She stopped my open mouth with a wave of her hand. "Maybe just a good working relationship, or maybe a great friendship. But you will _never know_ unless you allow yourself to live a little. You _can_ be a success at work and have a life, Bells. But you don't believe that.

"You're missing out. On everything. And it makes me sad."

My breathing was suddenly ragged. _I am not going to cry. Not now._ I opened my mouth once more, but Alice again gently cut me off.

"Your clothes are on your chair. Goodnight." She kissed my forehead.

She walked out of my room, leaving alone and in the flat darkness.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Less than thirty minutes later, I was moving aimlessly though the black night. I ran until my legs cried out for mercy and threatened to dump me on to the cold, unyielding ground.

Sparks danced before my eyes; emerald green fireworks shooting into the cold sky.

**

* * *

**

**Poor Bella. Welcome back to reality. **

**A *ginormous* thanks to each and every one of you who read, story alerted, or reviewed this craziness. I literally do a fist-pump when I read a thoughtful review… I had NO IDEA how awesome reviews were until I started this little journey. So from the bottom of my heart: **_**thank you**_**. **

**-ahealthyaddiction**


	4. Chapter 3

**As always, love to Dawn. She is a beautiful human being. Thank you.**

* * *

_Bella. Wednesday_.

Shockingly, my bedroom ceiling still looked the exact same as it did three hours previously, when I had first crawled under my sheets.

Pale blue silk rustled softly against my bare legs and my fingers danced restlessly over lace and skin. I rolled over to look at my clock for what felt like the thousandth time tonight.

2:37am.

Why_ am I still awake at two in the fucking morning?_

Every part of me was exhausted, aching; hell, even my _skin_ was begging to sleep… but my brain had different plans. Random images kept flashing through my head, playing on an endless loop:

Charlie's empty stare as he leaned toward me after winning the Cullen account.

Jessica's stupid swishing hips and Mike's ridiculous mug.

Electric green trapping me from across a room.

Alice's small face, sad and real.

I hit my mattress with a flat palm, and was rewarded with an unsatisfying thud.

_Alice_.

What the hell was her problem, anyway? Quite frankly, I didn't appreciate her unsolicited opinion on how my life was going. _I mean, shit_… she usually nodded sympathetically while I told her about how hard I had to work in the office to stay away, stay a stranger. Validating, commiserating, always supporting….

But tonight, of all nights, she had felt like needling me about how lost I'd become, how wrong I was about everything in my life, how awful my existence was… Hadn't I had a tough enough few days?

Everything was spinning out of control, and Alice thought now would be a good time to pile on to my turmoil? _Now_?

My pulse throbbed in my throat and I realized that my jaw was clenched painfully tight.

_Ya know what? Screw it. Alice can _shove_ her helpful input. _

The thoughts stung my throat like bile. Well hell, while I was at it…

_Fuck Jessica for her endless supply of dirty looks and whore couture._ _Fuck Mike and his arrogance and inability to understand the concept of personal space. _

Hell, why not throw Edward under the bus, too_… for his gorgeousness and for being so intoxicating and alive, and for making me briefly believe that I was capable of giving a shit about him. _

_Fuck Charlie and his stupid condescending tone and effortless dismissal. _

_Fuck Renee_…

I shook my head, shutting that thought down before it took root.

My eyelids were clamped shut. I pivoted my neck and pressed my cheek into my pillow, feeling the cool silk slide against my skin and I tried to grasp at peace, tried to relax and breathe…but my consciousness was screaming now, shrill and sharp and soundless in the pale moonlight.

_Fuck _me_ for letting all of this happen_._ For being so weak and careless, and for entertaining that idea, even for a second, that I could be a normal person… throw caution to the wind, and just care about things again… and get hurt… fuck THAT. No fucking way… Alice and her talking, and her feelings… why couldn't she just leave me the hell alone, let me get through this and move on… nope, she just had to press me, and now I'm up in the middle of the goddamn night…_

_Holy shit. _

My eyes snapped open. I could see the ghost of my reflection in the round mirror on my vanity; my pupils were glittering points of oynx against a black backdrop.

_I'm _angry_. _

I sat up straight. The sheets fell from my shoulders and pooled around my waist. Goosebumps immediately rose on the newly exposed skin, but the crisp night did little to sooth my ire.

I couldn't even remember the last time I was really, truly pissed… about anything. Like so many other things, I simply didn't allow it. I _never_ allowed myself to get passionate about anything anymore, not in years.

But right now, I wasn't just "kind of" mad… I was furious. Seething. I thought daggers, exhaled smoldering embers, tasted acid behind my teeth. My fists were clenched, twisted into the covers. My breath was hard and short and ragged.

Passion like this was dangerous; it was uncontrolled and raw, and led to desires, and vulnerability, and needing… and far too much thinking. I preferred steady logic, cool resolve…

Determination was manageable. Fervor was unpredictable. Unpredictable was unacceptable.

_What the _fuck_ does that even mean, Bella?_ I pressed the heels of my hands to my burning eyes. _My bullshit isn't even making sense to _me_ anymore._

_What is wrong with me_? The question was quickly becoming my mantra, an affirmation that I was broken, drowning…

In a matter of three days, my entire world had gone from following a straight steady path to being out of control on the goddamn freeway. Stuttering, blushing, sweating… and now uncontrolled anger?

_Edward_.

His name was involuntary, and I groaned into my dark room. I wanted to drum my feet in frustration.

This situation couldn't continue. My rapid decline was undeniably exacerbated by his… well, his _existence_, I had to figure something out. I had to work with the man on the biggest project of my entire career, for fucksake.

_I'm just so tired._ I crossed my arms and rested them on my bent knees, laying my forehead flat on damp skin. I was physically tired from the brutal physical stress that I'd forced myself through the last couple of days… but I was also mentally beaten down.

I didn't know how much longer I could fight _myself_.

It had taken me years to get over this stupid emotional shit, but I'd done it. I'd beaten my silly juvenile instincts to cry uselessly and laugh irrationally, and figured out to how just _be_. Yet here I was, stupid Bella alone in my room, contemplating my life like some hormonal teenage idiot instead of focusing, like I _needed_ to be doing right now...

I flopped back onto my pillows, deflated. My anger was dissipating, but it was rapidly being replaced with hot, viscous guilt that clogged my stomach and lungs. This rage was probably justified toward Mike and Jessica, and definitely toward Charlie… but Alice didn't deserve it. My Alice loved me and had never done anything but look out for me. The harsh thoughts had been a knee-jerk reaction, and I didn't mean any of it. I did appreciate Alice's candor; the fact was that she cared about me enough to give it to me straight and hard.

"_You _can_ be a success at work and have a life," _she had said_. "You're missing out. On everything."_

She'd been so sweet and genuine, and it made me instantly feel even worse for my misdirected irritation.

_She just wants to help, and I mentally freak out on her. _I sighed.

_Worse… what if she's right?_

I kicked at my sheets in sheer aggravation_. What _good_ does this soul-searching do me, Alice?__ It's pointless. Regardless of… well, _whatever_, there is no way out of the corner into which I have painted myself. _

_Wait. _I paused my silent breakdown. Was_ I in a corner? And _did_ I want out??_

_Shit. _

Let's say, for arguments sake, that I _did_ want to be… different, at work. More approachable. How could that possibly happen? If I went in tomorrow and called everyone by their first name, it would be a shock. Everyone would talk... Angela and Emmett would probably be okay, happy even… but Mike would undoubtedly say something snide. Charlie… _oh god_, if Charlie heard, I would be mortified. He might publically flog me for my lack of professionalism. Just the thought of all of that attention was enough to make me queasy. And Jessica? She would stare and openly whisper about me to anyone who would listen… maybe even with Edward…

_Edward_. Him again. The name that would be sweetest on my tongue would be the most difficult to say. _He must already think I have multiple personalities_. My sudden one-eighty from Professional Ice Queen to Friendly Ol' Bella would all but _guarantee_ his never wanting to be alone with me ever again.

My stomach twisted at the hopelessness of my situation, and my bitter laugh reverberated through my empty room.

The irony was stark, striking. The walls I had constructed so carefully around me to keep everything out felt more like a prison in this moment, keeping me carefully locked away, unscathed and unsatisfied.

_Okay, okay, okay. Stop wallowing, Swan. It's non-productive. _Focus. I just needed to figure this out…

_So I'm here. In the dark. Fuming and alone and cursing my best friend who was never anything but incredible to me. Not exactly my finest hour. _

_So let's analyze the situation_. I felt the familiar detachment slowly cast a shadow, wedging between my mind and reality. I sighed in the dark.

My stress over the Cullen account was, obviously, bringing up some (_ugh_) "issues" that I needed to address. _I'm behaving irrationally, and Edward_ (my breath hitched at just the thought of his name; of course, I ignored it) _is the catalyst for my conduct. I mean, he's an attractive man, and I see him everyday… It's no wonder I have a crush, really. _

I could feel my breath starting to slow, my heartbeat returning to its normal rhythm. It was better with rational thinking guiding my thoughts versus some emotionally-driven mania. I felt more like… well, like me. And that's all I had, really.

I actually nodded in the darkness, the first tendril of hope snaking into my stomach_. So really, this horribly unstable condition I'm experiencing might not be permanent. _The relief was cool and spread through my chest like rolling fog._ I'm just making it a big deal because I'm so mixed up about the account. Yeah. That sounds about right._

I looked out the window at the black night, searching, as if the real answer lie beyond the glass. The night was old now, black paint thinned with impending day. The first indications of dawn were felt rather than seen.

Beating myself up for my reactions isn't helping anything. I had to move forward. If I couldn't cure the disease, then I had to manage the symptoms.

I drew in a deep breath and squeezed my eyes shut once more. _Shit_. I knew there was more. The truth was unavoidable:Alice really did have a point and I knew it. I probably did need to live a little… _I really will keep that in mind, _I her, of course.

But this whole Edward thing… I concluded then that my reactions, my thoughts, my… "feelings" toward him were simply byproducts of my stress level, and I just needed to get past this phase and everything would work itself out eventually.

I knew what I needed to do.

When I saw him next… when my stomach clenches and my cheeks inevitably burn… when his delicious smell makes my mouth water and his green eyes hold mine, and when his very presence caresses my skin like fingertips…

I would acknowledge my reactions and then just _move on_. If I blush: accept it and continue. If my mind wanders: bring it back. _No more dwelling_. I needed to concentrate on work, on relaxing, on taking _some_ risks… like Alice had said.

I wrapped myself in convoluted logic like a lover's embrace, my own reason singing me a cheerless lullaby.

Finally, mercifully, I could feel my consciousness starting to slip away.

_Acknowledge and move on._ I could do that.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I grimaced as the bitter liquid slid down my throat. I hated coffee, but I required something stronger than my normal tea. I rubbed my temples in tight circles and once again re-read my meticulous notes.

"Rough night?" Alice eyed the steaming coffee in front of me.

I nodded. "Definitely."

Alice sat down across from me, crossing her legs on the hard kitchen chair. She was staring into her cup, clutching it in both hands and obviously avoiding my eyes. When she finally lifted her gaze to mine, I could see she was upset.

"I'm sorry," she suddenly blurted out. "I felt awful all night. I honestly didn't mean to upset you. You know how much I love you, and I just want you to be happy… I'm your best friend and it's my job to tell you the truth… I just…"

"Ali, stop." I shook my head. "Seriously. You definitely do _not_ owe me an apology." I laid my hand on the table, palm up; she hesitated before placing her tiny one in mine. "I thought about it, and… I agree with you." She raised an eyebrow at me, but I continued. "I _am_ missing out on… things. And even though I don't know what this means, I've decided to try and… Open up. Adapt. Live a little, right?"

I winked at her, and she finally gave me a small smile. I hoped it was what she needed to hear. "So I'm sorry I upset _you_."

She squeezed my hand and took a sip of her coffee. "Shut up. It's too early for this shit."

I chuckled and instantly knew that everything was back to normal. Friendships like ours had forgiveness built-in.

"Hey," she asked, "would you be able to stop by the market today at lunch?"

"Mmmm… I can't, actually." I tapped the open folder on the table next to me. "I have that consult with potential clients this morning, and then I'm meeting with Jasper at three...."

"Oh right, I forgot about the client meeting!" She peered at me from above her mug and rolled her eyes. "Hence the school marm get-up you requested."

I shot her a dirty look and choked down another gulp of brown sludge. _Blech_.

When I met with possible clients, I preferred to dress… conservatively. I felt that it demonstrated professionalism and maturity. Also, I didn't need to worry about the male clients ogling my tits or the female clients judging my youth.

Alice ignored my exasperation. "So who are meeting? What's the set-up?"

"It's a pair of brothers." I drummed my fingers on the papers I'd been reviewing before she came down. "Sam and Paul Uley. They just purchased a space downtown, and they want to explore the possibility of opening a… frozen yogurt shop."

"Brothers?" Alice cocked her head. "Younger or older?"

"Um…" I check the paperwork. "Fine, upstanding young men, it looks like. They recently inherited some money and decided to give the world of non-fat frozen dairy treats a go…" I looked back up at her. "Why?"

She was already standing. "Well, that changes everything. You are not leaving yet…"

"Alice." I tried to sound stern. "There is NO need for me to change. None. I look fine."

"Yeah." She rolled her eyes. "That black turtleneck dress screams, 'Hire me, boys.' "

"You picked this out for me!"

"And it looks fabulous! But not for these circumstances." She placed both hands on the table. "Bells, we are both smart, educated women, right?"

My tone was cautious. "Right…"

"And I would say that we are both extremely capable and resourceful… right?"

I sighed. "I would agree."

"Then why wouldn't we choose to use all of the tools at our disposal?" She raised her eyebrows. "_All_ of them?"

"Alice…" I stopped. She was looking at me with big eyes, and she shook her head.

"Start now, Bella. Today is a new day. You said you wanted to open up? Adapt? Step one: stop hiding behind fabric and words. Jump outta that comfort zone."

She was being heartbreakingly sincere, and her apology this morning had been so genuine and unnecessary… and goddammit, I still felt really guilty about my harsh thoughts toward her last night…

_Fuck. _

I nodded, and she squealed and clapped her hands.

"We're going to fix your hair, too!" she called as she ran down the hall.

_Oh hell. _

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sam and Paul were pre-occupied, gesturing widely around the room and bickering over where they would put the checkout counter. Their voices boomed and bounced off the walls, communicating with urgent animation that could only happen between siblings. They reminded me of two dark giants in a fairy tale, arguing over which villagers to eat first.

Their appearance had, upon first meeting them, momentarily stunned me: the Uley brothers were both _enormously_ tall and muscled, with caramel colored skin and long jet black hair. I had known that Sam and Paul were Native American and that they had grown up on a reservation on the coast, but what I didn't know was that they were each damn near seven feet tall. Even Emmett would have to look up to them.

As I had suspected from our phone conversations, they were indeed young. However, they were only a year or two younger than my ripe old age of twenty six. Sam was the elder and obviously the leader, but Paul was definitely his own man. Fiery and fierce, I found him a little hard to read. So far, he had been cordial enough, but had yet to warm up to me. Sam, on the other hand, was friendly and talkative from the get-go, and had been throwing me covert looks for the last fifty minutes of our meeting.

_Looks like one down, one to go._

I struggled with my feelings of anxiety regarding my own appearance as I spoke at length about what Swan Consulting could do for them. They listened carefully, and I tried desperately not to tug at my hair or fidget with my dipping neckline.

Alice hadn't pulled any punches. I was now wearing my black Dolce & Gabbana two-button jacket and pinstripe pantsuit that had been flawlessly tailored to fit the curve of my waist and breasts and hang over my slim hips and thighs. The purple top Alice had picked out was generous with the skin it revealed, but tasteful nonetheless.

My hair… _goddamn it_. She had insisted I wear it down, the she-devil.

_Cognitive therapy,_ she'd explained happily as she had slapped my hands away from my bun. _You wear your hair up as a crutch. Nothing bad will happen to you if you wear it down. Nothing. Do you think that someone will think less of you if they see how long your hair is? No. So shut the fuck up and let me work._

And so far, she'd been right. The brothers had greeted me with respectfully brief glances, nothing that I wouldn't expect from a pair of healthy young men.

Well… to be honest, than once I turned around a little faster than Sam had obviously anticipated and he had quickly had to reintroduce his eyes to my face from their previous engagement with my ass.

I chose to ignore it; I would berate myself about it later.

Despite my extreme nervousness on the way over here about my attire, I wsa irrationally surprised that their demeanor toward me had been professional, despite my… well, despite my not looking like a nun.

Sam waved his hand at his brother. "Enough, Paul. This is stuff that we can decide later," he said with finality. Paul huffed, but dropped it and walked away. Sam turned toward me. "Besides, if we end up working with Ms. Swan… excuse me, _Bella_… we can call her anytime of the day and ask her these kinds of banal questions then." He smiled, and his teeth were long and straight. Truth be told, they were both quite handsome men.

I laughed, feeling powerful and in control of the situation. "That's right, Mr. Uley… excuse me, _Sam_. If we do end up workingtogether, I'd be available to you _almost_ any time of day." I waited.

"Almost?" Paul looked at me, his hesitation thinly veiled. _Hhhmm_. I still needed to figure out how to connect with him, to open the lines of communication so he could see that I wasn't trying to sell him snake oil.

"Absolutely. Calls in the middle of the night, no problem. But if I'm watching a Mariner's game, my cell phone inexplicably loses all reception. It's bizarre, really."

Paul's eyes instantly lit up.

"You're a Mariner's fan, huh?"

_There he is. _

Sam laughed. "Now you're speaking Paul's language." He turned toward me. "We had no idea that you were a baseball fan, Ms. Swan."

"Oh yes. I love baseball." I smiled at Paul, and this time he returned it. _Got him_. "Ever since I was a little girl… Nothing better than a ballgame."

"Paul and I have season tickets," Sam said. "Maybe I can convince Paul to stay home one day and we could catch a game."

I smiled. I'd been half-expecting this. _Here we go_. "Oh that is so kind of you, Mr. Uley, but in reality I rarely get to watch a game on TV, let alone find the time to get to the park! As your consultant, it's my job to free up time for you so _you_ can go and enjoy the games."

_Nice_. This was not the first time a potential client had skirted the issue of a quasi-date, but a subtle reminder that I was there as a consultant typically did the trick.

"Dinner, then."

_Uh oh. _

I slowly turned back toward Sam. Paul rolled his eyes and meandered toward the front door, putting space between us. Sam stood still, watching me from high above, a small smile playing in his face. He was serious.

_Goddamn it Alice_. My torso constricted with cold panic. I was tense and guilty, feeling horrible. _This is why I can't dress like this. This is why I do what I do, why I act how I act… Adapt my ass! Shit shit shit._

I laughed softly, trying hard not to let my tone betray my nervousness. The rational part of me, for once, was a little louder than my screaming fear: Sam's tone was gentle and sincere, not intimidating or possessive. There was no Mike-like arrogance in his tone; Sam was just a nice young man who was showing interest the in wrong woman.

"Thank you very much for the offer, Mr. Uley," I kept my voice low; I didn't want Paul to hear so as to spare Sam any embarrassment, "but once again, I will have to politely decline."

The air between us was suddenly flavored with that special variety of awkward that existed after a denial. I stole a glance at my watch, and _thank jesus_ our time was up.

I cleared my throat. "If neither one of you have no further questions, I should be getting back to the office." My plastic smile was up, shielding me from my discomfort. "I hope I've given you a lot to think about." I smiled at Paul, and then Sam, who was looking repentant. "I sincerely hope that we can work together."

Paul nodded, gifting me with another grin. I felt infinitesimally better that I hadn't completely ruined things with fifty percent of the men in the room.

"Well gentleman, I'll look forward to your call."

Sam walked me out. My embarrassment was staining scarlet on neck, and I would have given anything to have that mother effing turtleneck back on.

"Ms. Swan…"

"Bella, please." I took a deep breath and turned to look up at him, my plastic smile still molded on my features. I knew that I needed to stay cool to lock in this client, and my professionalism was currently beating out my humiliation. _But_ _oh god, I know I look completely inappropriate, the breeze is licking the skin of my naked collarbone and please just let me go…._

"I apologize for my behavior. I honestly didn't mean any disrespect toward you…" He rubbed the back of his neck with a huge hand. "My brother and I are very interested in working with you, and I sincerely hope my awkward, impulsive offer didn't ruin our chances."

Suddenly, Sam looked very, very young. I could tell that he was heartfelt in his apology.

A possibility occurred to me then, striking my brain like lightening. Maybe… maybe it wasn't that big of a deal. Sam was young and he took a chance… and I couldn't exactly blame him for that, could I?

Maybe… this incident… wasn't my fault?

"Of course not, Mr. Uley… _Sam_. I am still hopeful that the Uley brothers and I will have a long and happy business relationship... but of course, that's up to you and your brother." I smiled up at him… and it was real.

"Thanks, I appreciate that." Sam laughed, obviously still a little embarrassed. "I couldn't help myself. You just seemed so…" He paused and peered down at me, his black eyes apologetic and bashful.

"… fun."

"_Fun_? Me_?_" The words escaped me before I could rein them in. "That's… that is interesting."

Sam laughed. "Yes, fun. Is that so hard to believe?"

The wind made my hair dance around my face, and I smoothed the strands behind my ear. "Yes, actually." I blushed deeper crimson, but Sam just laughed again.

"Well… it's true."

The silence between us was still awkward, but now it was oddly pleasant, too. We both laughed at the same time, filling the space. Sam coughed, "Okay. I've embarrassed myself enough. I'll speak with my brother, and I'm sure we will be calling you very soon." He opened my door for me, and waved as I pulled away.

In the privacy of my own car, I heaved a great sigh.

_See? It's okay, Bella… Your life was momentarily unpredictable, but the world didn't end. _

That was unexpected.

That was wildly inappropriate.

That was… not entirely terrible.

_Shit. _

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

To my utter amazement, the ride back to the office didn't consist of me rebuking myself for my inexcusable behavior. Yes, Sam's attention had been improper. But could it have still happened in the turtleneck dress? Well… absolutely it could have.

I had done something differently… and I had _lived_. I was still a professional, still respectful, still alive. It actually turned out a little more than okay. _Hell, I was even called fun, which is a verb I wouldn't use to describe myself in a million years_. I decided to take it as a compliment.

_It seems that I can't control everything._

Progress.

_Alice would be doing back handsprings right now. _

As the elevator doors slid open to the lobby of Swan Consulting Firm, I felt good. Confident. Brave. I even gave Jessica a smile as I walked by her desk; she returned it with a confused sneer. It only fueled my good mood, and I was ready to work.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hours later, I was on fire with the Cullen presentation. I was almost completely finished my budgeting estimates, projected finish dates, and contractor proposals. My spreadsheets were done and already in the editing stage. The written report was also coming along nicely. I allowed myself a moment to admire my work.

_I really think this is going to seal the deal, _I thought with satisfaction._ Hell, I'd commit millions of dollars to these numbers. Damn fine day so far, Swan._

_Ding._

I clicked open my Outlook and saw one unread message from… Edward Masen.

My stomach fluttered ridiculously. I had been expecting his email, though I had been trying not to think about it... Every three minutes…

He'd never emailed me before, and I knew that he was over at Billy Black's office right now.

_That's enough Bella._ My thoughts were firm, and I immediately squashed my foolish pride. _Its one thing to acknowledge you're having a good day, but quite another to get excited over an email._

I pushed my bangs back behind my ear as I stared at the screen.

_Good afternoon, Ms. Swan. _

_I hope the day finds you well._

_Mr. William Black says to say hello to you. (I wasn't aware that you and he were so well acquainted.)_

_I have attached my files regarding the Cullen account. Please let me know if they are satisfactory. I would be more than happy to make any changes you think are necessary. I will be in this afternoon if you need me to make any revisions… or for anything else. _

_Sincerely, _

_Edward Masen_

I immediately opened the attachment and skimmed his work. I wasn't surprised to find that it was flawless. Spreadsheets were organized and neat, data was well-presented. The power point presentation was dynamite, and I couldn't believe he had come up with it in just two days. He really was talented with a mouse… _I wonder if he's talented with anything else…_

_Ugh. Gag me, Bella_. _Acknowledge and move on._

Moving on.

I was very pleased to get the greeting from Billy Black. Like so many other people in my life, I hadn't seen Billy in months.

Billy and his wife were old family friends. Billy had started up his law firm around the same time that Charlie had begun Swan Consulting, and in my youth I remembered sharing many, many dinners with the Blacks.

However, after my mother was gone, the Blacks had come around much less. I always figured it was because they were uncomfortable, or maybe it was because Charlie stopped giving a shit about anything that wasn't related to work. It made sense that since they had become clients of ours, Billy and my father had been seeing each other more often. I'd even heard Angela mention scheduled dinners with my father and Billy… perhaps even in a friendly, outside-of-the-office way.

I wondered if Charlie… _enjoyed_ time with Billy. It was odd thinking of him doing anything other than scowling. Charlie didn't seem to really enjoy anything anymore.

_Wait a second…_

I quickly re-read Edward's mail. I had known that Edward was at Black & Clearwater today, but… how exactly had _I_ come up in conversation? Why were Billy and Edward talking about me?

My cheeks blushed pink as I quickly went through the possibilities in my head, all of which were completely plausible and innocent. Billy was wishing my _family_ hello, not necessarily me specifically. Edward was emailing me the reports anyway so he politely passed the greeting along to me. _That's the most likely_, I thought.

Or… maybe Edward was talking to Billy about our joint presentation on Friday, and Billy had mumbled, "Oh, Isabella? Please tell her hello for me," as he concentrated on some important document. He probably barely registered my name. _This is also highly probable._

But… what if I had been brought up in a different context? Possibly… not work-related?

Who would have broached the subject, and what on earth could have been said?

I rolled my eyes at my own childishness. _Okay. Get a hold of yourself, Bella. That's a little egotistical. They were talking about business, nothing more. I'm a Swan in Swan Consulting, I'm bound to come up occasionally_.

I channeled Alice and began typing out a response before my brain could over-think it to death.

_Hello, Mr. Masen,_

_My afternoon has been very productive, thank you for asking. _

I stopped. That is _exactly_ what I did to Jasper yesterday, and he had been right to call me on it. I deleted the line and started again.

_I am well. Thank you for asking. _

Better.

_The Blacks are indeed old family friends. Please pass my regards along to Mr. Black for me._

_Your reports are more than satisfactory, and I thank you for getting them to me so quickly. If you have no objections, I will work on combining them into one presentation. I will be sure to consult with you for the final draft. _

_Thank you,_

_Bella Swan_

My fingers hovered over the keyboard. I doubted that he knew I even went by "Bella." I don't know what possessed me to write it. In my career, I had always gone by "Isabella Swan." It was on my business cards, my name plate, even in the company directory. But now, with him… I didn't want him to think of Isabella Swan when he saw my face.

I wanted Edward to know Bella.

It was a small, tiny, itty bitty baby step, and I could almost guarantee he wouldn't even notice it. But it was a step, nonetheless. I figured that Alice might see that as progress… I'd be sure to tell her later.

I hit send and tried not to worry about it again for the rest of the afternoon… and for the most part, I succeeded.

More progress.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Ms. Swan?"

Angela was standing by my desk. I realized in horror that I had been staring out the window at the grey Wednesday afternoon for who knows how long, tapping my pen absentmindedly on a blank notepad.

"Oh! I'm sorry, Ms. Weber." I was immediately embarrassed. I swallowed the panic that automatically rose in my throat at being caught not working. _Relax, Bella. There are bigger sins, right? _

I smiled at her. "I was a million miles away. Can I help you?"

Angela smiled back at me. "Um… yes. Mr. Jasper Whitlock is here to see you." I turned my head toward the front of the room and saw Jasper standing at Jessica's desk, shuffling his portfolio bag and trying desperately to avoid the curious conversation that she was trying to instigate.

Jasper waved to me enthusiastically. With very little surprise, I noted that Jasper was wearing a deep purple blazer over plaid dress pants and was sporting a dapper white bowtie. He was earning odd looks from my some of my colleagues, but I thought he looked beautiful.

Jasper was the exact opposite of Ms. Swan: loose and free and joyful.

_My co-workers must think I'm a pod-person. _

"Thank you so much. Would you please send him back here?" She nodded and walked up to Jasper, gesturing politely in my direction. I stood up as he approached.

"Hey, Bella!" His voice rang clear and deep through the expanse of the room. The air in the room froze stiff, and every head in the whole place seemed to turn directly to me. I thought Mike was going to be launched out of his seat from centrifugal force, due to the speed with which he spun himself around to face us.

I swallowed the unfounded anxiety that bubbled in my chest. I had a name. I supposed that it was time everyone heard it.

Jasper laid his portfolio bag on the floor and in one quick motion wrapped me in a big bear hug, lifting me off the floor. I was so glad to see him. I fought and won over the instinct to stiffen in his arms, and instead relaxed in his embrace and softly patted him on the back. I caught a glimpse of Mike over Jasper's shoulder—he wasn't even attempting to hide his gawking stare. I smirked into Jasper's neck. _Trust me, Mike, I'm surprised at me too._

"Thank you so much for coming." He set me gently down and I gestured to the seat next to my desk. "I'm so happy to see you!"

"Me too." Jasper sat down. He openly appraised me from head to pointed heel. "You look fucking amazing, by the way." I rolled my eyes. He laughed. "Ha! There's my blush. Gotcha."

As unconventional as Jasper's personality was, his looks were classically handsome: tall and lean, with steel grey eyes and long curly blonde hair that grew out instead of down. He had a scar above his left eye that ran into his eyebrow and quirked it upward, making him look eternally mischievous.

"Nice digs, Swan." He nodded appreciatively. "Weird to see your name on the sign, though."

I scoffed. "That's my father's name on the door, Jazz. My name isn't on anything, yet." I sat down at my desk next to him, grinning like an idiot. I'd never had one of my close friends come to the office to see me before, not even Alice. His familiar, soothing presence made the entire room seem completely different. Smaller, perhaps. More comfortable. Maybe I was finally experiencing that atmosphere that designer had charged us thousands of dollars to create.

We took some time to catch up, filling each other in on what had been going on for the past few months. I didn't really have a whole lot to share, but Jasper described to me, quite sincerely, about how he had recently learned how to knit his own socks, he had read some information that make him sincerely question the moon landing, and that he was toying with the idea of buying an alpaca. Jasper's mind was a bit like the ocean: expansive, constantly moving, and teeming with activity. I just did my best to follow along, all the while stifling my laughter and trying desperately to remain professional.

Jasper sighed and drummed his long fingers on the chair. "Well, hell, stop distracting me, Bells. Let's get down to business, shall we?" Jasper reached into his portfolio bag and pulled out a large folder, which he laid on my desk with a flourish. "Since someone only gave me twenty-four hours to work on this, let's hope it's to your standards."

As he organized the drawings on my desktop, I felt a low current lick the nape of my neck.

I stole a glance around the room, and sure enough, there he was. He was striding past Jessica's desk and toward the IT desks, long legs . My heart immediately soared at the sight of impossible hair and broad shoulders.

_Acknowledge and the move on, Bella?_

I quickly refocused on my lanky friend next to me. Thankfully, he hadn't noticed my momentary distraction.

Jasper proceeded to show me what he had come up with for the Cullen's expansion campaign. I was floored. Jazz had taken our short conversation yesterday about the direction that the company wanted to take and had turned it in to something extraordinary. Every aspect of what he had done, from the new logo to the theme print campaign, was absolutely perfect. By the time he was finished, I was practically bouncing in my seat.

"Jasper, I can_not_ tell you how excited you have made me. This is going to blow them away."

He smiled broadly, obviously pleased. "Do you really think so?"

I raised my eyebrows and nodded ardently. "Jasper, you know how serious I am about business and my career." He rolled his eyes and blew out a gentle _ha!_ I let it slide. "This client is the biggest the _company_ has ever had on the line, let alone me personally. I wouldn't bring anything to the table that I didn't' think was the very best I could possibly find. And this, Jazz," I tapped the papers he had placed on my desk, "_this_ is the best I could ever find."

Jasper shook his head, but his smile never left his face. "Well, I thank you my dear, but I won't get my hopes up until I see the signature on the check."

I laughed at him, pushing away from the desk. Our meeting had run much longer than we had intended. It was past five o'clock now, so the main room was nearly empty.

"So," he drawled, his lazy words betraying his Texas roots, "when is this crazy-important meeting?" He stood, taking his notes and shoving them back in his bag.

"Friday." I stood up as well, leaning on my desk and looking up at him. "We have one more day to pull this thing together."

"Well, if you do even half as well as I know you are capable, I will be buying you a congratulatory drink this Friday night."

"Ha! Darn right _you'll_ be buying me a drink. An ad campaign for a client this large would bump you up into the next tax bracket, love." His eyes widened slightly. I laughed again. "Maybe that will finally convince you to let me make you the top graphic arts firm in Seattle. You can pay me in microbrews and Pad Thai."

He shook his head slowly, his grey eyes unfocused. I could tell that he wasn't saying no, but rather just letting the possibilities shift and settle into his colorful head. I really hoped he would let me, but I wouldn't push him anymore. For now.

Jasper clicked the buckle closed on this portfolio bag and looked at me, his face sincere. "Bella… thank you. I really mean it."

I grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze. "No Jazz. Thank you, for being such a great friend. I know that I haven't always given you the same courtesy." I swallowed thickly and took a deep breath. "I don't intend to let you fade out of my life again." My words were heartfelt. Once again, Alice's words came back to me:

_You're missing out. On everything._

I was starting to remember.

Jasper shook his head and chuckled. "Bells, I've never been out of your life. But I appreciate it. You can start by actually showing up at the bar when we say we are going to meet for drinks." _Ouch_. I had done that, too.

"Deal." I linked my arm through his and walked him up to the elevators. Jessica was already long gone for the day, and we were alone in the lobby. He leaned over and touched my shoulder, brotherly and warm.

"You'll do great, Bella. You don't know how to do it any other way." He kissed my cheek before turning toward the elevators. I waved as the shiny doors slid shut.

I turned back to the empty room, my eyes automatically seeking. They swiftly found their prize.

He was sitting at his desk, his suit jacket causally slung over the back of his chair. The sleeves of his black dress shirt were rolled up, revealing marble forearms. His head was angled down, but he wasn't looking at his monitor.

Edward was staring straight at me, from under bronze eyelashes.

Wild electricity pulsed through my body, squeezed my lungs, gripped my hips with invisible hands. A strong pull tugged at the base of my spine, trying to nudge me toward him.

I resisted.

_Stop it now. Move on. At least _move_, for godsake. _

Somehow, my feet carried me back to my chair. I sat heavily and looked down at the drawings that Jasper had left for me. I had meant what I had said; they were absolutely brilliant. I had wanted to bring something to the Cullens that would really "wow" them, and Jasper may have just sealed this deal for me. I was eager to put it all together with the rest of the presentation.

I paused for a moment, but knew my hesitation was futile—of course I was going to stay late and start the project. Alice was training her own client tonight, so I could work as late as I wanted, excuse-free.

I hadn't even had time to wave away my screensaver when I felt him approach my desk.

I braced myself, mentally blocking myself from my physical reactions to his proximity. I just had to resist, simple as that.

His smell hit me then, tanned leather and undeniably male. My tongue dragged across my lips, half expecting to lick sticky honey.

Edward pushed one sleeve, then the other higher on his arm, his hand sliding over solid skin. I pressed my own palm flat on the cool mahogany and dully wished it was firm flesh and bronze hair, slick with sweat from a night run.

_Expense reports. Huge client. Chance of a lifetime. Move ON, Swan._

"Shouldn't you be going home?" He spoke softly, and my breath to caught in my throat. Even an innocent question in that voice made me feel drunk and dizzy.

My mind was blank. I nodded, grasping at the ability to vocalize, something to say to him, anything to fill the sizzling silence.

"I could ask you the same thing."

A playful smirk twitched on his face. "I was just finishing up, actually. I've been editing the power point presentation for our meeting on Friday." He paused. "I wondered if you had a chance to take another look at my tech specs for the Cullens? I just wanted to make sure it was still satisfactory."

_Definite lack of satisfaction right here._

I felt my cheeks being to burn. My head nodded, finally acknowledging his question.

"I did, yes. Thank you so much for getting those to me." I stuttered for a moment. "They are more than satisfactory. You are very… prompt."

_Shakespeare himself couldn't have written a more polished sonnet, you ass._

His crooked smile seared into my brain, further destroying my ability to articulate.

_Shit. Stop smiling at me so I can acknowledge you and move on._

"Great, I'm glad to hear it. We're still on for our meeting tomorrow, then?"

I nodded again.

_I must look like an effing bobblehead. _

"Of course. I… I have you scheduled in my calendar." _Oh god. Shut up shut up._

He turned his head to look out the window. The sky outside was dark and moonless; his face was illuminated by the buildings and life below us.

As ran his hand through his tousled hair, my fingers increased their pressure on the hard desktop.

"It looks like your last meeting ran long."

A thrill ran through my stomach. He was conversing with me, and I was desperately trying to relax and follow along. The desire to connect with him was sudden and unexpected.

I nodded and cleared my throat. _If I nod one more time, I swear to god I will kick my own ass. _

"Yes." _Well, better than nodding_.

"That was my graphic designer, Jasper Whitlock."

Edward didn't saying anything in response. His gaze found mine once again, his hair wild, his cheeks shadowed. If I were standing, I think my legs might have given out. "He came up with an amazing campaign for the Cullens." Still no response. I wondered if he were waiting for something. I continued uncertainly, "And… I think they're going to love it." I looked down at the drawings, futilely hoping I wasn't as red as I knew I was.

Edward remained quiet. The silence stretched between us. I kept my hands flat and stiff, resisting the urge to sweep my bangs across my forehead. He finally spoke.

"Is he a… close… friend of yours?" His question was quiet, innocuous. My eyes snapped up to meet his. They revealed nothing out of the ordinary, nothing to warrant my racing heart. His face was as passive as ever, betraying nothing of what he was thinking of feeling.

"Yes. Jasper and I have been friends for years. He's one of my dearest." I spoke quietly, watching Edward's face. His expression never changed.

"He's in love with my best friend Alice," I blurted.

I gasped silently and my face instantly burned with humiliation. My outburst sounded like a confession, and was so completely inappropriate for the moment. _What is wrong with me?_

His response was immediate, shocking.

"Good."

My inhalation was sharp. The space between us was pregnant, motionless. Briefly, his face revealed a fleeting expression, but it was gone before I could register it fully. _Probably my poor, overworked imagination._

"It's good that you have such a talented friend." His relaxed crooked smile was back, brushing away the thin tension in the air. My brain felt like it had a fine layer of fuzz covering it. I struggled mentally, trying to put up the wall that I so desperately needed around me to keep him out, keep him away. I needed to breath.

I fought to take back control of my thoughts. "Talented is an understatement." I touched the top page of Jasper's papers. I saw Edward look down, watching my fingers as they traced the lines. He cocked his head, trying to see them right-side up. Once again, my two-timing lips spewed sound before I could edit my thoughts.

"Would you like to see them?" I struggled for a reason. "I mean, you will be presenting this, too."

_Please come closer. Dammit._

Edward smiled at me then, genuine and perfect. "Sure, thank you."

He moved around the desk toward me, stopping just over my left shoulder. He placed his left hand on my desk, splaying his long fingers out wide, inches from my own frozen fingers. His other hand came to rest on the top of my chair, just behind my unbound curls. His firm flesh blazed hot; I felt him through my jacket and blouse and lace bra, burning me.

He leaned down. My mouth watered.

I reeled, feeling pressure spinning and bubbling in my chest. I prayed that he couldn't hear my heart; I knew that the temperature from my burning cheeks had to be radiating heat and pure arousal. The room suddenly felt small and dark and alive.

_So I'm definitely acknowledging. Where is the moving on?_

I tried to shut down, bracing my mind firmly against the barrier I was struggling to construct between his body and mine.

"Jasper really is quite brilliant," I babbled. "I gave him just a vague idea of what I had in mind, and he ran with it…" I showed him Jazz's drawings, shuffling through the pages and explaining the ideas. I spoke far too rapidly at first, but quickly began to feel more in-control while speaking about work. My voice grew stronger, my words more coherent. When we reached the last page I trailed off, and suddenly I was gripped again by the situation: his proximity, my exposed collarbone and my hidden black lace panties, our quickened breathing.

He was silent for a moment, studying over the papers. I couldn't move. His warmth enveloped me, still and silent. Then, slowly, he turned his head and his breath touched my cheek, and _oh_ _god_ it was sweet and cool against my inflamed skin...

"You're doing it again."

I twisted my head. His voice, his body, his _heat_ were all around me, consuming, pulling, wrenching. For what felt like the hundredth time in a few days, his green eyes locked with mine. His face was less than a foot away.

Another chunk of the wall chipped away.

"Doing what?" I was breathless. _Goddammit. Get… get a hold… of… uh…_

"Being too modest." His eyes roamed my face. I caught a glimpse of tongue and teeth through parted lips. "You are incredibly talented yourself. I've seen you do some impressive things."

The rest of the world felt very far away. I found myself staring at his lower lip. "No," I said softly, "this was Jasper's creation."

I realized then, helplessly, _I can't stay here. I don't know what's going to happen… I can't control this._

"You flatter me, though." I breathed in his scent; it made my head swim.

He stared. "I like seeing you smile." His eyes flickered down to my mouth for a moment before coming back and capturing my eyes. "You don't smile enough, Ms. Swan."

_Call me Bella. Please_.

It wasn't a passive request, but rather a desperate plea that echoed between my ears. My lips parted, my tongue darted out and it found salt and confusion. Words threatened to slip through my fumbling grip; the fucking gap between us ached to be bridged.

Harsh light spilled into the room.

Edward stood up quickly, his hands leaving my desk and chair back. My hands instantly flew to my bangs, sweeping across reddened skin. My body was dotted with pinpoints of cold where his heat had been.

Charlie's form filled the doorway to his office, filling the space around us and sucking the breath straight from my torso. He looked back to where we were, visibly surprised. His brow furrowed.

"Bella? Mr. Masen?" He closed the door to his office and locked it with a click. "Working late?"

My mouth opened and shut, gulping like a fish. Nothing came out. No cool, professional words, no smooth explanation.

Edward had stolen those, too.

A cold swell of panic spread along my neck, over my shoulders, down my arms.

_What just happened? What did Charlie see? Oh god… what did I think I was doing?_

_What _was_ I doing?_

"Ms. Swan and I were going over the material for the Cullen presentation." Edward's voice was easy and unhurried. "We are meeting tomorrow to finalize the information, but I was eager to see what the graphic designer had come up with during their meeting this afternoon. I didn't realize it was so late." He laughed casually. I studied my father silently.

Charlie stood silent for a moment, shifting his gaze between the two of us. He finally nodded.

"I trust that you'll do a fine job on Friday, Mr. Masen." Charlie nodded to him curtly, and Edward turned and walked back toward his desk, not sparing a glance in my direction. I continued to watch my father. Waiting.

Finally, hardened brown met mine, but only for a moment before he smoothed his coat over his arm. "Bella, shouldn't you be getting home? I'm sure Alice will be waiting."

The familiar pang of hurt blossomed in my chest, but luckily I was much more practiced at pushing away that particular sensation than I was with dealing the reactions that Edward had elicited from me. Instantaneously, my protective wall was back up, solid and secure.

"I have some work I need to finish up, Mr. Swan." My voice sounded like mine again: hard, tight. The breathiness was gone. Out of my corner of my eye, I thought I saw Edward's head jerk toward me slightly.

"Yes, well." He didn't finish his thought. My father looked back to Edward. "Mr. Masen, shall I walk you out?"

Edward turned back to me. "Will you be alright, Ms. Swan?" His eyes were inquiring; jade points of light searching my face.

"Of course, Mr. Masen. I believe we're all done here." I didn't look at him, but rather stared fixedly down at Jasper's papers, shuffling them into a neat stack.

"Mr. Swan," I said with finality.

Edward walked with Charlie through the lobby. I kept my head down and my shaking hands busy as they both climbed into the elevator together.

Even from across the room, I _felt_ his attentive gaze. I felt it in my shoulders, in my thighs, in the tips of my ears and between my legs.

In the last few seconds I had with him, I straightened my shoulders and returned his stare. I did not to look away, did not care if Charlie saw. The pull flared hot, intense and vivid, burning my throat.

I was consumed by an irrational desire jump up, to run to the elevator… to thrust out my arm and stop the doors, to ignore Charlie's wide, judging eyes and grab him by the collar and yank him back out… to crush his warmth to me…

I just… I wanted… to be near him for another moment.

_So stupid._ I had to laugh at myself. Even if I did it, this insane fantasy, I knew full well that I would have no idea of what to do with him if I actually did have him pressed against me...

I sighed. _Oh_ _yes I do._

The doors slid shut, severing the connection.

I sat alone at my desk, trembling and unfulfilled.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Alice couldn't stop smiling.

"Knock it off." I said miserably. I chewed popcorn mechanically, trying not to taste. I had a nagging craving to lick, not chew… and besides, I craved the texture of skin on my tongue— it was the wrong kind of salt and heat. My senses were confused, along with the rest of me. I'd pretended to be normal today, and had failed miserably.

_Pathetic_.

"I acted like _such_ a fool. This morning I was prideful… stupid… I let myself relax. I was negligent. A complete unprofessional. I stuttered and couldn't think…" My head flopped back onto Alice's pillow. "But he smelled so damn good…"

Alice's pillow rustled as she turned to look me. We were both lying in her bed, watching the Mariners game on our DVR. They were playing San Francisco and the score was tied four and four; Alice and I normally watched the Mariners with rapt attention, but I had been distracted and unable to focus. _Big shocker, given my behavior lately_.

"You smelled him?" She was trying to keep a straight face, but she was doing a terrible job.

I groaned in response, pressing a pillow over my head. I felt her roll over on her side.

"Something is… different, today."

"Yup, sure is. Two days ago I was a sane, logical woman. Today, I'm throwing my career away and losing my mind." I removed the pillow and rolled over to face her. She was so damn perceptive it was scary. "Different how?"

Alice was smiling widely now. She shrugged nonchalantly. "Never mind."

"Alice, dammit."

"Bella." Her blue eyes sparkled. Alice generated a different kind of energy than Edward; where he simmered and smoldered, she buzzed and bubbled. She constantly existed on the verge of exploding. She was child-like and alive, her cheeks rosy.

"We have listened to each other talk about our day, almost every day, for the past seven years. However, truth be told, it's usually hard for me to hear. You are normally incredibly hard on yourself: you could have focused more, you let yourself get distracted, you need to work harder tomorrow… You never acknowledge how amazing you are. You're too busy not feeling anything."

"But today, Bella… you _are_ feeling something. That's why you're so confused, love. You're letting yourself really _feel_ something again. And whether it's due to this guy or the Cullens or the fucking man in the moon, I want to buy them all a drink." She looked so happy… I was anything but. This was the second time in as many days that our discussion had taken such a serious tone about how I was living my life.

"Jesus, Alice."

Her eyebrows lifted. "What?"

I twisted the pillow roughly in my hand. Quietly, I said, "I thought I could do this. Just this morning, I thought I had it all figured out… but I didn't. Am I losing it? And am I that fucking messed up?"

Alice sat up on her bed and crossed her legs. She looked at the lavender wallpaper behind my head, considering her words. Alice was passionate, animated, a wholehearted liver of life… but she was also very deliberate with her words. I tried to be patient as I watched her thought-process play out on her expressive face.

"Do you remember the first night that we met?" she began. "While we were laughing hysterically and soaking wet, I knew I would love you forever. You were witty and fun, and _scary_ smart. You never backed down from anything. To this day, the times when I want to relax and maybe make an easy decision, you always push me and make me apply myself."

"But Bells, after your Mom was really gone..." I flinched, but let no trace of discomfort cross my features. "… You went through a change. Those wonderful facets of your personality were still there, but you focused all of your energy into one concept: _succeeding_. You developed this notion that if you were actually having fun and enjoying yourself, somehow that meant you weren't working hard enough. Your happiness… it became directly proportionate to whether you had been successful _enough_ for the given day."

I felt like I was sinking. Everything was changing so rapidly… Everything I thought I knew, felt or refused feel…

I hadn't asked for this.

Alice was saying things that I hadn't really wanted to think about for a long time. I wasn't expecting this conversation again tonight.

I suddenly really needed to go running.

Alice continued gently, oblivious to the flight response coursing through my veins. "But you're never successful _enough_. You measure yourself against these impossible standards that you have created… and as a result, you are _never_ happy. So to not think about how supposedly 'inferior' you are, you numb yourself, either through running or just by sheer determination... which in itself is pretty incredible," she mused.

By all intents and purposes, Alice was my only family. And hearing this from her… hearing the truth about me and my loneliness, my weakness, my insanity… a wave of sadness enveloped me. I struggled mutely, my heart twisting and convulsing.

Crying wasn't an option. I hadn't cried in almost seven years, and I had no intention of doing so now, over this. But my lungs felt tight, and I felt myself getting dangerously close to welling up.

The need to move was gaining intensity.

"But Bella, something is happening to you now." Her tone was tender. She smiled her luminous grin, her bright eyes shining at me with the tears that I denied myself. "Maybe this new client is the push that you needed. And Edward Masen… he's making you think about things that you have avoided for a long time. I hear it in your voice. You might not see it now… but this is a good thing, or at least the beginning of a good thing. Not something to be quashed and chalked up to weakness."

She finished simply, "I can just feel it: your life is about to change."

We looked at each other for a while longer. I knew that Alice could feel my churning thoughts, sense my tension. She patted my hair and laid back down, her smile lingering on her lips. She cast her eyes back to the television.

I got up slowly, dazed and blinking. I quietly shut her door behind me.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I lost track of time after an hour and a half. My feet beat callously on the cold ground. It was late and I was alone; the long lawns were hidden in the darkness, lying outside of the harsh circles of light cast by the streetlights.

I was distraught.

I always depended on running to make me calm. My muscles would scream and protest and I'd push and push and eventually my mind would give way to the monotonous hum, welcome as an old friend, or a known-lover, and everything would just fade away.

But now, even as my lungs felt fit to burst, Alice's words continued to echo in the night in front of me. I just couldn't find the silence.

I knew she was right, about all of it. I was proving her point right now.

I felt the fight leaving my body with every exhalation of hot breath. My thoughts spiraled chaotically behind my eyes.

I couldn't keep doing this.

A part of me had known all along that the existence I created couldn't survive. That I would crack wide open and everything I had dammed up would come rushing out of me. _But why now?_ Why at the turning point of my career, and not any other time in my apparently otherwise-meaningless existence?

And what the _fuck_ was I looking for, in a vaguely familiar neighborhood, in the middle of the night?

_Really, Bella, why bother with lying anymore? _

It was painfully obviously how weak I was, because I was well-aware of where I was… and what I was really looking for to calm my reeling mind.

It wasn't my numbness that I sought.

It was a glimpse of a damp white t-shirt and wild bronze hair.

And once again, I trudged home – confused, and feeling like a stranger in my own skin.

_I am getting really fucking tired of this. _

* * *

**So I pretty much can't believe it, but there is an actual Twilighted thread for THIS story. *jawdrop* The lovely nicnicd did it, because she's the shit. **

**http://www(dot)twilighted(dot)net/forum/viewtopic(dot)php?f=44&t=5250**

**And to the 54 of you that have put this story on alert: just, gah. Thank you SO much for even reading this thing, let alone liking it enough to care when the next chapter goes up. ****You guys are awesome. **

**-ahealthyaddiction**


	5. Chapter 4

**~*~ UPDATE: I'm so sorry fanfic didn't send everyone the chapter update alert, and also that it didn't save my final draft where I had FIXED these typos. Grrrrrrrr. I hope to have corrected them all (again), if you see anymore PLEASE let me know. *muah* ~*~**

**Dawn (MusicJunki) is incredible. She offers both thoughtful insight and fierce reassurance, even when it's crazy late and I've rambled on for 12k+ words. Thank you forever. **

**BTW, sometimes I forget to mention that I don't own Twilight. This condition persists. **

* * *

_Bella. Thursday._

That night was the first time I dreamed of Edward Masen.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

_We are back on the dark street where I first saw him. Moving. Running from me. _

_His back is wet and hard again, muscles contracting and straining underneath thin white cotton. The fabric sticks to skin, contouring to the long line of his spine, wrapping around his lean waist. Legs extend beyond loose black shorts, long and hard, pistoning as he chases down the pavement. _

_And I want to run away… but I can't. _

_He turns and sees me staring. The sky is pitch black, white pinholes of light peek through, and we are alone in the dark world. I can see my own panting breath escaping into the night air. _

_His eyes locked with mine, he walks toward me. I blink. I can't move. _

_He approaches me slowly, like he were stalking prey. His smell is everywhere, swirling and consuming: melted brown sugar, smoky tanned leather, tangy salt-sweat. I draw him in my lungs, hold him there._

_He reaches me, pausing a few feet away, silent and still. My nerves send sparks, dancing like live wires. They anticipate. _

_His eyes searching mine, his body hard and tight and _right there_… my fingers twitch toward him, but I don't dare reach. I am consumed by the energy he radiates; my chest heaves, and in spite of his searing heat, my nipples harden. _

_I drink in his cheeks, his lips, his eyelashes, his neck because I can look at him now, free to stare and drink and smolder, and I don't have to look away or distract myself or chastise myself for _wanting this,_ for wanting to feel and be filled, wanting _him_ to fill me... _

_He burns me. It's a stark contrast with the cutting cold night air surrounding us, sharp and thrilling. I feel myself swell and urgent wetness rushes between my legs. I'm tingling, aching, my pussy throbs and I honestly fear I might explode if he _just touches me_, if he moves his hand and makes simple, sinful contact with my flesh…_

_But he simply continues watching me, and his only his eyes caress my lonely skin. I feel his gaze slide over my neck, across my breasts, stroke my heat._

_He moves forward. His hand lifts, stretches out, reaching, so fucking slowly… _

_And oh god he is here, he's _touching me_, his hot palm is sliding over skin, cupping my neck, my jaw. Fingers tangle into my hair, and he gently pulls me toward him, and hot white stars burst in my stomach, in my chest, to the pulsing heat between my legs._

_We crash into each other. His sharp hips push into my abdomen, and _oh fuck_ I feel his hardness, pressing, urgent, right there... His hands grip my waist, not allowing an escape – _

_But I don't want to run. _

_He bends his head down toward mine. His hair is soft and wild against my cheek, my lips. I feel his breath roll across my neck, tickling the sensitive skin behind my ear. His nose lightly skims my chin, my jaw, my neck… but never my parted, trembling lips. _

_I jerk reflexively when first I feel his tongue caress the shell of my ear in one long stroke, textured and moist and hot. Hard teeth nibble the lobe. Other parts of my body offer an immediate request for similar attention: my throat, the skin just inside my wrist, my hard nipples, the taut skin of my stomach, my aching pussy. _

_I let my head fall backward, arching my spine, my fight gone, resolve forgotten. His lithe body curves to match mine, never letting me go, refusing to let me leave. _

_His lips attach to my neck then, sweetly biting at the buzzing flesh. _

_I moan softly, _

_fucking feeling _everything_. _

_His hand is twisted deep in my hair now, holding me tightly in place, fully supporting my head because _

_I just _can't do it by myself_ anymore. _

_His eyes catch mine again. I am trapped and free and definitely alive. I silently beg him to do this, please do this, I'm too scared to do it... too scared not to do it... _

_and finally, mercifully, oh thank fucking god his lips meet mine, his bottom lip fitting between my parted flesh, sweet and fire and emeralds, claiming me, all searing motion and wetness. My legs give out but his solid arms hold me upright. His tongue is urgent, insisting upon my lower lip._

_The grass and my thighs are slick. _

_I part my lips, opening myself, accepting his challenge and I meet him halfway… _

_and oh god he tastes... _

_like liquid fire and leather... _

_his hands on me, in me, velvet adrenaline in my veins... _

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I sat up straight, spine stiff, muscles clenched.

I was enveloped in total darkness; there were no stars, no gentle moon-glow, no illumination.

_Shit_.

A dream.

My heart was pounding. I ran my hands through my hair and they came away wet; I was sweating. I peeled off my soaked tank top and threw it in a heap on the floor. I ran my hands over my skin, trying to sooth my pounding heart.

_But I_ _can't dream._

I hadn't had a dream in… fuck, I couldn't even remember how long.

My pillow was damp so I flipped it over, too shaken to actually get up and find a replacement. Vivid pieces of the dream assaulted me, coming back in disjointed flashes that filled all five senses: damp grass, the smell of something sweet, hot textured skin and pressure on my back, green satin seeming to taste my neck…

_No_.

This wasn't happening. For the most part, I had stopped dreaming long ago, save for a few random images here and there. Nothing I could remember, at least. My unconscious mind was too cruel, too quick to remember things that I just didn't think about... things that were too pathetic and too shameful to be given any more attention.

Things I was done with.

_I must not have pushed myself hard enough tonight._

My running served many purposes. Not only did it allow me to zone out, to just not think for an hour or so… and not only had my harsh workouts helped to train my mind to harden and obey… but I had eventually discovered that it also gave me a way to completely shut down for the night. I had learned long ago that if I ran to the point of utter exhaustion, both my mind and my body turned off as soon as I hit the pillow and I wouldn't have to worry about what my brain felt like rehashing against my will, during the night. My mind would spend every bit of energy I had left for recharging, and it would leave nothing to dedicate to dreaming or rehashing pointless memories; I would just tumble into the void and float there until it was time to do it all again.

Admittedly, as far as dreams go, this was a good one – fucking fantastic, even – but what if it happens again? What if next time, my mind decides to revisit truths that I had long ago accepted and learned to live with?

Unpredictability was unacceptable. I was beginning to lose control over what I thought during the day … and now there was a possibility I could no longer manage what I thought at night, too? It was like my brain was being hijacked, and I was powerless.

Goddamn it. Powerless was _not _a word I allowed.

I lay back, panting, sweating. _Not now. Please don't do this to me again. I'll do anything. I'll go out, I'll do whatever Alice says, just please…_

My eyes were screwed tight shut, and I realized that my fists were balled up into my sheets. I flipped over onto my back and concentrated on steadying my breathing. I rested my palm flat on my, feeling the gentle rise and fall as I drew breaths in and pushed them out. My skin there was moist, and my fingers glided over the wet skin in random patterns.

I was frustrated that I was slipping. My routine obviously needed to be intensified. I was being too far easy on myself…

_Regardless, I'm awake now. _

To top it off, I was stubbornly trying to ignore the persistent throbbing between my legs.

I remembered my dream. Every second of it. I remembered long, thick legs and a broad wet chest… curly damp hair and full pink lips… a rough jaw rasping over sensitive skin…

I was surprised when my aimlessly roaming fingers suddenly met with fine lace.

My eyes went wide.

_Oh. _

_I hadn't thought of doing _that_. _

I hadn't… ah, "taken care of myself," in a few weeks now. Sexual release was just another one of those things that I simply didn't need. It was unnecessary, counterproductive… and the conventional method sort of needed a partner, which wasn't really an option for me. When I really, truly _couldn't_ ignore the ache anymore and I _needed_ to deal with it… well, I did. I was only human, after all.

I likened the act to performing routine maintenance for an automobile.

For the most part, I ignored it. The ache, the longing, the neediness... I didn't acknowledge it. I didn't want it.

Sexual desire was an echo inside of me that, like sadness and uncertainty, had become an afterthought for me. I wanted to remain hollow.

But now…

Now my fingers were being rebellious.

Goosebumps covered my skin, inspired by cool night air on my exposed skin. My left hand had slid slowly up my stomach and was grazing the bottom of my bare breast, my fingers lightly tracing the underside of the soft swell. My other hand was cautiously dipping just underneath the lace trim of the boyshorts that I was wearing: not low enough to feel the gentle rise of my pubic bone, but low enough to get my attention.

I didn't have to like it, but I figured that this was natural and necessary.

Time for a tune-up.

_Maybe this will help me sleep,_ I reasoned. _So I can go about my day like a normal person… whatever that means for me._

I gasped as my cold fingers found and tentatively circled an erect nipple. I caressed the pink skin softly, hesitantly. A soft groan slipped loose, and my tongue darted out to lick my lips before I pulled the lower between my teeth, attempting to stifle any further noise. I took a deep breath through my nose, gathering myself. I flicked my puckered nipple with my thumb.

_Edward_.

It was _his_ hands on me.

His long, beautiful fingers that I had jealously observed manipulating a keyboard, or his cell phone, or tormenting his hair… of all things, his fucking hair haunted me. Bronze madness and pure sex, always looking like he's always just been fucked.

_His_ hands were palming both breasts now, caressing the soft flesh, rolling the stiff rosy peaks between flat fingers. I held my breath as one hand slid down along my stomach before burying itself under lace and cotton.

The rogue fingers barely grazed along my soaking slit, gently probing, exploring the smooth, bare skin. I was already so slick… shamefully eager. Needy flesh yielding to weakness.

I moaned again, inaudibly, pushing my head back into my pillow. I pinched my nipple hard, both excited and embarrassed that my body automatically knew what I really liked.

My teeth snapped shut with a click when I abruptly slipped a finger inside of my tight heat, and then another.

_Yes_.

I was blazing against the cool night, trying to keep my body as still possible as I softly rubbed and bucked my hips. My fingers played me like an instrument, plucking taut stings and pressing smooth ivory keys, slipping between folded flesh, finally finding the part of me that was hot and uncomplicated and alive…

My teeth continued to worry at my lower lip when my fingers… fuck, _his_ fingers… danced over the small bundle of nerves that was singing for pressure.

_There._

I made another pass over my throbbing clit… tighter this time, more urgent…

_BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP._

My hands flew from my skin as if I had touched a hot stove, and I gasped.

Confusion was replaced by exasperation was replaced by humiliation as I hit my alarm clock with my closed fist. I felt like I'd been caught doing something awful. My nerves sang for the return of fingertips and friction.

No. It was time to get up for work… my real life.

I did not bother to finish my endeavor.

_This is what you get, Bella. You can't even do _this_ right… _

I laughed out loud. My pulse was slowing now, and my thoughts were clear.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I lost myself to monotony.

The morning was a complete blur: a whirlwind of rustling papers, crunching numbers and colored graphs. I was concentrating on a hundred different projects at once, trying desperately to forget my failure from this morning. I still needed to draw up the final papers to contract with the Uleys and get them faxed over for Sam and Paul to sign. I engaged in a bidding war via telephone between two contractors who were both vying for rights to a project for the Cullens. I barely even found the time to call Dr. Jenks and congratulate him on the arrival of his child late last night – a son, named Seth. He promised to send me a photo as soon as he could.

I was actually surprised when Angela kindly reminded me that it was almost time for my meeting with Edward. I hoped she didn't notice my immediate blush. I thanked her and quickly turned my face to my monitor, willing my breath to slow.

I had seen Edward here and there throughout the day, but we had acknowledged each other with only slight nods, and with his ever-present smile. My body was tense, coiled, like a tight spring. It had not forgotten our talk last night, my vivid dream about him, or my cruel denial from this morning; he was present for all three, even if he was only aware of one. My thighs moved over each other on their own accord, unconsciously seeking relief. I was determined to deny that, too.

If the last four days had been a "little odd," then the last roughly eighteen hours had been completely bat-shit insane. Edward had stood near me last night, and I almost imploded into a flustered, repressed poof of smoke and hormones. Charlie had interrupted my flustered breakdown, and then he took Edward away and had left me alone, hot and hor… _unsettled_. Alice had once again rocked my world with honest, loving observations that tore at my already frayed seams...

But what was bothering me the most was my run. It had done _nothing_ to numb the unwelcome feelings... and that worried me. I currently lacked the emotional distance that I usually found out in the cold night air and that I needed so badly. In fact, my running had done the exact opposite of that I intended: I had ended up looking for him, seeking him out unconsciously when I had meant to forget him, to bury him and this hold he had on me.

Then, god help me, I had dreamed. I had dreamed about _him_.

And I had spoken to him for essentially the first time just four days ago.

My prized resolve was leaving me, and was being replaced with emptiness. It wasn't even my welcome and sought-after numb emptiness, either; it was static and void, vacant, smooth as glass and just as transparent.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I was hyper aware of him.

He was sitting across the table from me in the main conference room. We had just finalized the presentation outline for the Cullen meeting tomorrow, and had worked out a solid plan for who would say what when. I would be doing most of the talking, which was fine with me. I was pleased with our progress and was feeling confident about tomorrow. Edward's power point presentation was amazing, and he was working on updating it now with our evolving game plan. I watched as his fingers flew over the keyboard, and my cheeks immediately flared red. I brushed my bangs back and hid my eyes.

_C'mon Bella… you were doing so well the entire meeting. _Why_ are you now being turned on by computer usage_?

I recognized quickly that I was giving in to my weakness, and I obediently filed the thought away and refocused. Now was not the time…

_Oh, sweet. So we're back to 'acknowledge and move on.' Excellent. It worked so well yesterday._

Angela and Jessica sat in the conference room with us, taking notes and keeping a list of materials that we would need. Well… one of them was. Angela sat to my right, furiously writing, forehead lined with concentration as she listened carefully and kept up with our brainstorming. Jessica, on the other hand, sat primly to Edward's left and passed the time by brazenly staring at his profile, her pen waving lazily above her nearly blank page.

"That will do it, then." I put my pen down on the table and leaned back in my chair. I was anxious to stretch my legs. "Ten copies will be plenty, I believe."

Angela was concentrating on her notes, scribbling swiftly. I stole a glance at Edward, who was still focused on his laptop, his gentle clicks filling the silence. Jessica was focused on him.

"Jessica…" Angela's voice was timid. I immediately pictured a small white rabbit, sniffing at the air, unaware that a fox was creeping up behind her.

Angela cleared her throat and began again. "Since you already have an errand to run out of the office today, do you think maybe…" she kept her head down, her eyes glued on her writing. "I mean, after I get the materials together, of course… do you think you would be able to run to the printer and have the ten reports bound?" Her tone was gentle, apologetic… and submissive. "I am just swamped here, and since you are leaving anyway…" She trailed off. She glanced up, nervously, directly at Jessica.

"Hmm?" Jessica tore her eyes from Edward's profile and trained her cutting gaze at Angela. Her face twisted into a patronizing smile.

"Oh, I'm _so_ sorry Angela, but I have to work on some _very_ important projects for Mr. Newton this afternoon and will need to get back to the office as soon as possible. I'm afraid I won't have time to make any other stops." She cast a sideways glance at Edward again before looking back at Angela, that smug fucking smile still on her face. She cocked her head to the side. "Unless you… _need_ my help, Angela? If so, I would be happy to help you complete your duties."

My nostrils flared. I saw red… _uh oh._ I was angry again.

For some reason, I _needed_ to defend Angela from being steamrolled. Angela had never done anything but be a helpful, model employee for this company. _She_ had shown me kindness here when no one else did. _She_ was an all around decent human being who was too damn professional and too damn fearful to stand up to someone like Jessica. It wasn't fair.

"No, of course not." Angela quickly looked back down at her notepad. "I can handle it. Thanks, anyway." My hands clenched on my chair arm. I thought I saw Edward's eyes flicker upward.

"Projects for Mr. Newton, Ms. Stanley?" I unclenched my fingers and laced them together on the table in front of me. "Wow. That _does_ sound important. More important, I wonder, than this project for the Cullen account? The largest account that this company has ever had on the line?"

She tilted her head to the side, now staring at me with narrowed eyes.

"I don't understand what you mean, Ms. Swan." She then decided to dish me up a helping of the same patronizing smile she had just served to Angela.

_Oh, no. _I smiled at her with plastic lips._ That shit doesn't fly with me, dear._

"I wasn't aware that you were working exclusively for Mr. Newton now, Ms. Stanley. That _must_ be the case, since his work seems to be your priority." I spoke calmly and smoothly. Angela was peering at me now from behind her black glasses. Edward's hands had stopped moving, and I could feel his eyes on my face.

"Oh, I'm not exclusively dedicated to Mike, Ms. Swan." Jessica crossed her legs and stared at me boldly, her thin eyebrows arching high and haughty. "But he has just been _very_ busy lately, and I've been assisting him with his workload. To my understanding, certain consultants have been very distracted this past week and he's really had to pick up some slack."

That smug fucking smile again.

_Thank you, Jessica._ I grew calmer.

"I can sympathize with Mr. Newton completely." My voice was lace and steel. "A heavy workload is stressful. Which is why I think Ms. Weber should probably concentrate on the responsibilities assigned to her by the CEO, and you can complete the tasks that are assigned to you. By me. Does _that_ make sense, Ms. Stanley? Unless you would like to explain to Charles Swan why Michael Newton's assignments are so much more important than efforts for the Cullen account." I kept my head still, watching her smile waiver, then droop, then twist.

"Or, if you are simply too _busy_, I would be happy to explain your new work arrangements to him on your behalf."

The silence was almost painful.

"Unless, of course," I continued, "I'm mistaken about your priorities. In that case, you will be _more _than happy to take care of binding those ten reports before you tackle those imperative projects for Mr. Newton today."

Jessica's smile was now a red grimace; a crayon drawing on her tan face of what a grin might look like to a child.

"And I'll have those reports on my desk by five o'clock today. _Please_," I added.

The air was jagged. Jessica's spine was rod-straight, and her nails looked like red talons as she clutched her pen with white knuckles. I had a brief, wild thought that she might fly over across the table and punch me in the mouth.

She didn't.

"Thank you, Ms. Stanley, I appreciate your assistance this afternoon, and I'm glad we straightened some things out." I looked down at my paperwork. My dismissal was obvious. "That will be all for now."

Jessica wasted no time. She grabbed her notepad, roughly shoved her chair back, and stormed out of the room, both her blonde hair and ample ass bouncing.

Angela gathered her papers slowly. She cleared her throat once more, but I kept my eyes on my own notes in front of me. As she stood, she leaned closer to me and softly said, "Thank you, Ms. Swan."

I didn't look up. "You're welcome, Ms. Weber," I responded quietly. "Thank you for your help today, and every day."

She left the room with the gentle click of the door, leaving Edward and I alone. His fingers had stopped moving over the keys, the gentle taps now glaringly absent in the quiet room. I felt his eyes.

The quiet was deafening.

I was immediately bashful. _Edward, please meet Professional Bitch. Professional Bitch, Edward Masen. _I tried to avoid his stare by suddenly being very interested in the margins of my notepad. He finally broke the silence.

"Please remind me to do everything you ever ask of me, without question."

I couldn't read his face, or interpret his tone. As usual, his thoughts were a mystery to me.

My dream came crashing uninvited into my mind: cold air and warm breath, wet fabric and hard hips and overheated, willing flesh_... _I was horrified to note that my nipples had perked up; they apparently wanted to join the conversation, too.

My body responded with the blush that I had denied giving to Jessica.

_Oh Jesus… Not now!_

"Oh, that was just... I only…" I struggled to find the words to explain myself. I knew I absolutely shouldn't be embarrassed by my assertiveness, for defending Angela, for putting Jessica in her place… but here I sat, red and flummoxed. _Unprofessional Isabella, the only side of me that Edward knew._

Something occurred to me then, as I sat across from him, blushing and floundering for words. I had seen Jessica and Edward talking before… many times, in fact. He never passed by her desk without giving her smile and a wave. She always stood so close to him, always touching him on his shoulder, his elbow, even his neck once…

Jessica was undeniably beautiful, and lively, and lord knew that she had an... _active_ social life…

_What if… _

_What if she and Edward… were involved somehow?_

The thought hit me like a sledgehammer. He couldn't want her… right?

But it was too late; the notion had invaded me now, corkscrewing into my brain and clenching my lungs tightly with firm fists.

_Why wouldn't they be, Bella?_ They were both young and gorgeous, and saw each other everyday… It made sense, really…

And I all of the sudden felt so incredibly stupid for letting myself get this far… the smiles and the feelings and the stupid dream, and sitting her in miserable silence…

"…it was nice of you." Edward's words interrupted my racing thoughts.

"What?" My head felt slow, heavy. I was picturing Edward touching Jessica on her plump ass, and was feeling a little nauseous.

"What you did for Angela just then. It was nice. She's a really good person, but so insecure. She needed help, and you helped her." His voice tugged at the knots of doubt that were now tied tightly in my chest, but they would not be loosened.

I nodded. _Again with the nodding_.

"Oh, thank you. I just… Ms. Weber has a tough time standing up for herself."

"Yes, and Jessica definitely does not have that problem." His statement hinted at familiarity, and I swallowed hard. He closed his laptop with a snap. "I just hope that someday you're on my side in a fight. I wouldn't want to cross you."

My brain clicked out an answer instantaneously.

"Of course I'm on your side," I replied immediately.

My face flamed. "_My stupid, unfiltered mouth_. "I mean, I'd _be_ on your side," I furthered. "In a fight."

_Bella, he was being rhetorical._

"Though I don't think I'd be much help in a street fight. I have..um… little hands."

Oh god. _Please, an earthquake strike right now, anything to shut me up_.

"Oh." His face was deadpan, voice sincere. The syllable hung in the air, and I wanted to die. "Well…" He watched my silent humiliation. "I hope there won't be any fisticuffs tomorrow."

_Oh god, he's humoring me._ _I'm acknowledging my utter disgrace and moving along to kill myself_.

I couldn't see his face. I was staring at my notes like they were about to get up and start dancing. _Could I have made this any more awkward? _

When I finally looked up… his crooked grin was amused and honest. His electricity buzzed, soothing my embarrassment and lifting the hair on the back of my neck. Shame was replaced by calm, and I was once again frustrated by what he made me… do. The confusing responses he elicited from me.

He picked up his laptop and turned to leave, but stopped and looked at me once more. "But if things go terribly wrong, and a fight does erupt… I still wouldn't count you out," he kidded gently. "I bet those hands are more than capable of handling yourself."

This morning's activities immediately leapt into my brain. I stifled a strangled sound in the back of my throat.

He smiled once more, and the millisecond the door clicked I pressed my face into my palms, hiding scarlet cheeks.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

At five o'clock on the dot, I was startled from my work by a loud _thump_ on the corner of my desk.

I look up and took in the sight of a stack of neatly bound reports, and of Jessica's backside retreating from my desk. I thought I detected a little less saunter in her stride than normal.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I thought about it as I ran. For the first time, I was almost grateful for the loss of numbness because now I could fully feel the punishment for my stupid dream and my ridiculous behavior with Edward. My thoughts screamed in my head, and I reveled in the confusion, the disconcerting nagging, the aches. I ran until it hurt… and then kept going. I only stopped when my left knee buckled and I thought for a moment I was going to hit the ground.

When I felt like I had properly atoned, I limped home and began preparing for my meeting tomorrow.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

_Friday._

The main office of Cullen Corp looked surprisingly… innocuous. It was an older building, with red brick walls and tall trees hiding the structure's true size. Colorful flowers lined the walkway and let me to the wide glass doors. It actually reminded me more of a large private home than the main headquarters of an internationally traded corporation.

I was early, of course. Edward was no where to be seen, which was good. It gave me a moment to stand silently and collect my thoughts.

I was not visited by any dreams last night. However, I had still woken this morning curled in a tense ball under my comforter, as if I had spent my night hours anticipating a blow. My nights had been dreamless for so long now, my nights blank… and now, all of the sudden, I had been visited by color and smells and fantasy? I was beyond frustrated by my lack of control. It had taken me sixteen years to come to terms with… certain truths, and then seven years to learn how to live this way… and all it took was five days to make my carefully constructed life unravel.

But this morning… this was different. I was different. There were no nerves to quell, no need for a mental pep-talk. I felt steadier than I had since Monday morning, when I had stared at my reflection in the elevator door. When I had no idea what was coming.

I might not know how to smile, or cry, or interact socially… but I knew how to close a deal, and I knew how to sell myself as a commodity. I knew what I needed to do.

I was ready for this.

Alice, bless her, had done her part. I looked like I deserved a high-power contract. _Jesus, __I'd better. _I had nearly puked when I saw the price tag for this one suit. This one navy blue, fits-me-like-a-glove, Armani suit.

The day that I bought it, the salesperson who had rung it up for me had stood there patiently as I flailed my arms like a windmill and sputtered excuses at Alice as to why this suit was a completely unnecessary expense and would put me in debt for the next few weeks. The little devil had watched, and nodded, and waited until just the right movement to dart in and pluck my American Express right out of my clenched fingers and slide it to the sales associate.

"She's new at this." Alice had said. They'd both rolled their eyes as she ran my card, damn near maxing me out. I had tried not to pass out.

_Focus, Swan._

I took a deep, even breath and firmly grabbed the handle to the front door.

_Let's do this._

The inside of the building was nothing like the outside. This space was modern, open and luxurious, smooth and peach-toned and polished. The ceiling was expansive, and the walls covered in vibrant artwork. It was comfortable in here.

My leather pumps clicked hollowly on the marble floor. The man at the reception desk had already risen to meet me.

"Ms. Swan?" I smiled at him and nodded in the affirmative_._

"Welcome. My name is Laurent. Please, let me take those for you." He quickly came from around the desk and I gratefully unloaded the reports into his arms. "I will make sure that these are ready for you in the meeting room." He gestured to a plush beige couch along the left wall. "Please wait here, Miss Hale will be with you momentarily."

He took a few steps away from me, but almost immediately turned back. His phone was already ringing, and I could see his earpiece blinking red.

"Would you care for some coffee or something else to drink, Ms. Swan?" he asked graciously.

The offer for something besides coffee actually sounded great, as I hadn't had an opportunity to drink my daily tea due to Alice's whirlwind efforts this morning to dress me like Corporate Barbie. However, I saw that he was both extremely busy and precariously balancing the reports in both hands, and decided that I didn't want to bother him with another task.

"Oh, no, I couldn't drink a thing right now. But thank you very much for the offer." He disappeared down the hallway, his long hair swinging.

_I'll just go grab something later._I sat down on the couch and glanced down at my iPhone. I was still about ten minutes early_. I might have time to run through the presentation again…_

"I hope you didn't mean that."

My breath _whooshed_ out of my chest. The voice was deep and soft, like crushed velvet. My hand fluttered to my throat, pales doves finding perch along my collarbone.

Edward was standing above me, framed by the golden morning sun streaming through the windows. He was smiling down at me and looking incredible. His suit was striped black on black, tailored to fit his long lines. His shoes were polished, his goddamn hair impossible and haloed above him.

_It's copper in morning light_. _Not bronze. Gold, even._

He looked fresh and collected. And warm. And delicious.

I stared up at him, unable to draw breath. I had no idea how such a specimen was allowed to walk amongst regular people, like me… how he was in this lobby and not in a magazine, or perhaps in a painting. He was breathing and blinking and here, with me… and why was I here, again?

_Oh yes. Biggest client of my life. Right. _

While I stared and my brain sputtered and died, Edward remained silent, smiling and beautiful and untouchable.

As the wheels in my head began to creak forward again, I slowly registered that he was holding something. Two things, actually. In his hands, he had not one, but two beverage cups… and one had two tea bag labels hanging limply from underneath the white lid.

Dumbly, I shifted my focus from the cups to his face. He was still smiling, but now his eyebrows were slightly raised. I just kept sitting, staring a him like a doe must stare at a hunter, wide and wary. He waited. Then, as if to clarify, he pulled his right hand closer to his body and extended the other towards me. The intention was now plain.

It was for me.

I was caught completely off-guard. This gesture was unexpected and... confusing. Foreign. I reached out and gently took the cup from his outstretched hand… and the tip of my index finger lightly brushed the back on his thumb.

I was not prepared.

The nerves in my fingertip flared at the contact, throwing sparks of russet and emerald green and black oynx through my vision. A hairline fissure of heat raced from my digit down my arm, skittered across my shoulder, up my neck and exploded in my brain like fireworks. I stiffened and snapped to attention. My chest heaved once, and I ground my teeth together to hold captive the whimper that was dangerously close to escaping. My thighs were immediately hot, pressed together and I shifted to once again find friction, and between them my tiny, lace panties were immediately damp.

Because of his _thumb_.

I heard him draw a short breath sharply through his nose, but that was all. Not much of an indication of what I had just experienced, which was near reenactment of a scene from some executive porno.

From feeling a square centimeter of his skin brush lightly against mine.

I was mortified. This was not acceptable right now.

_And here I go again, with the berating and unbidden feelings._ I was hopeless.

_But you're not hopeless here. You're Isabella Fucking Swan, and you're about to seal the deal with the biggest client of your life._ Stop_ being such an idiot and _start_ concentrating on the situation at hand. NOW._

I gripped the warm cup in both hands. I willed my breath to stay even as I looked hard at the lid before my gaze traveled back up to find his waiting eyes, dynamic and receptive. They always seemed to be waiting for me.

"I thought you might want your tea, but I heard what you just told him..." he explained. I was shocked when I realized that Edward actually looked slightly awkward. _Why?_

_Oh crap._ I had yet to actually say anything out loud.

"Thank you." I whispered, the two words rushing together. I didn't trust my voice to stay steady if I spoke at normal volume.

Edward's broad shoulders settled as he sat next to me, unaware of the three-ring circus going on inside my head.

Again, I was unprepared.

The minute he sat, his long legs settling just inches from mine… the screaming in my brain stopped.

It just… it stopped.

I sat in blissful mental silence. The thoughts, the doubts, the confusion… they were all still there, but they simmering, muted, contained. His proximity to me closer than he had ever been, but instead of exploding, erupting like Mount Vesuvius… I was… soothed.

_Of course I am._ I almost laughed, a hysterical giggle vibrating on my lips. _Why _wouldn't_ I have another reaction that I don't understand? Why wouldn't he make me feel something that I wasn't expecting? _

My life had become one big surprise, one confusing moment after another… each more shocking and life-shaking than the next. _Par for the course now, really._

I was aware of every movement Edward made. The smoothing of his palm over his pant leg. The rustle of his black tie against the crisp grey shirt. The gentle thud of the pulse in his neck, lying directly below blue veins that mapped his throat.

My own heart thumped loudly in my ears as I fingered the label poking out from the lid of the warm cup - I hadn't even read them yet. Earl Grey, two bags.

I looked at him sideways. He was looking around the lobby, his profile illuminated by the morning light reflecting off the shiny floor. He was smiling to himself. I took the minute to study him, unnoticed. The gentle slope of his nose. The pillowy curve of his lower lip, which I now saw protruded out just slightly farther than his upper lip. I was transfixed by his jaw, which was freshly shaven and smooth and I wondered if it would taste like aftershave on my tongue. I filed it all away.

I had to ask.

"How did you know?"

Edward looked at the floor, his crooked smile nearly killing me, his hand tormenting both his hair and me. He shrugged. "I didn't, really. I was getting something for myself, and I thought you might want a drink. I took the chance that you might have already gotten yourself something…" But that wasn't what I meant.

"No." I said softly. I felt his head turn toward me, and I blushed but pressed on. "I meant… how did you know about… this?" I held up the tea labels with my thumb and forefinger.

He shook his head, looking down at his own coffee. For a moment, I thought that maybe I wasn't the only one struggling for words.

"You drink two cups of Earl grey tea every morning, with two tea bags in each." He nodded at the cup in my trembling hand. His eyes glowed green, deep and intense, like they were lit with flickering candles. He caught my eyes once more. "I pay attention, Ms. Swan."

I wasn't surprised by the electricity that I felt. It was expected, even becoming familiar… and I didn't look away. I stayed with him, frozen and melting at the same time. For the first time our stares were steady, our smiles relaxed. Instead of chaos, I found myself wrapped up, calm and solid… and I found my brain oddly silent…

"Are you ready for this?" he asked.

He made me forget to pretend, to edit myself. "I'm more than ready," I said. His smile went crooked, and I suddenly felt good. Really good. Alive and humming and strong.

"Ms. Swan, Mr. Masen. Good morning!" A gorgeous young blonde woman was approaching us, her arm extended. She was gorgeous and chic-looking, sporting a pink designer suit and perfectly kempt eyebrows. Diamonds dangled from her wrist and dripped from her ears, and her nails were French-tipped and immaculate. She was a daunting mix of feminine and ferocious. I liked her.

"I'm Rosalie Hale, the Cullens' personal assistant. Thank you so much for coming to see us this morning!"

Edward and I both stood and shook her hand. "Thank you for having us, Ms. Hale. We've very happy to be here."

"Call me Rosalie, please." She gestured to the hallway behind her. "Carlisle and Esme are ready to see you in the conference room. If you'll follow me?"

Finally, as I knew it would, I felt the slightest tingle of nerves form in my chest.

I immediately looked to Edward.

He was watching me, motionless, calmly waiting for me to move. I became aware of the heat in my hand from the tea, and my body remembered the spark between us, the explosion of _him_ that I had felt in my head and lungs and lower when our skin touched for the first time.

And as quickly as it came… the fear was gone. In the stillness of those few seconds, I found determination in Edward's quiet existence. I tried not to think about it too deeply.

I nodded to him briskly. He nodded back. In unison, we turned and walked down the hall.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Well."

Carlisle Cullen slowly closed the report and leaned back in his chair. He crossed his arms across his willowy chest and looked over at his wife, Esme. She was carefully studying the drawings that Jasper had created, tracing the pictures with her slender fingers just as I had done with Edward two days before.

I sat patiently, hands neatly folded on the table, and allowed them to absorb and process the information that we had just presented to them. Edward returned to his seat next to me, having just clicked the last power point slide in the presentation.

Edward and I had spent the last two hours presenting to the Cullens our goals and presentations for their construction division expansion. Though the plan was originally to have Edward stick to IT information and me discuss everything else, the meeting had quickly taken on a life of its own. He and I naturally picked up on the other's thoughts and points, and the presentation flowed with high energy and without hesitation.

Carlisle and Esme Cullen both struck me as extremely intelligent and savvy business owners. They were attentive to detail and asked us thoughtful questions. Edward and I fielded each query one by one; he even expanded on some points more efficiently than I might have been able to, which was no small feat.

I literally could not have envisioned the meeting going better. I was thrilled, but remained cool and stoic.

"Esme? Do you have any questions?"

Esme looked up at me and smiled delicately. She looked to be in her fifties, and she was still stunning. Fit, with long auburn hair and hazel eyes. She was lovely, immaculately put-together, elegant.

"Ms. Swan," she asked in her lilting voice, "these advertising drawings are outstanding. Who is this again?"

"Jasper Whitlock, Mrs. Cullen. He's one of the finest up-and-coming graphic artists in Seattle. We specifically commissioned him for this project." I made a mental note to hug Jasper extra hard the next time I saw him.

She looked back down at the page. "Extraordinary. It's exactly what we envisioned."

Carlisle nodded. "I agree. Quite frankly, it's all exactly what we pictured." He and Esme shared a look, a small smirk played on her lips. They held each other's eyes, trading secret smiles, willing the other to speak. I was struck by the playfulness in this interaction, and by their undeniable chemistry, even in the middle of a business negotiation. It was refreshing.

Finally, Carlisle spoke.

"Well, Esme, if I do say so myself, I think _we_ did an excellent job." His blue eyes twinkled. Mischievously, I noted.

She narrowed her eyes, but smiled at him. "After _that_ amazing presentation, you think _we_ deserve kudos? Whatever for?"

Carlisle's blue eyes twinkled. "For hand-selecting such talented representatives with whom to work."

Carlisle was lean and handsome, stately. He still had the buoyancy and charisma of a younger man, but the deep laugh lines etching his face and the white hair playing at his temples gave hints at his true age. He placed his hands on the table, and I leaned forward slightly.

"Ms. Swan, Mr. Masen…" He cleared his throat. "We thank you for your time today. We gave you very little time to prepare for this meeting – and I admit, that was on purpose. We wanted to see what you could do under pressure and on a deadline." He picked up the report and flipped through it again, thoughtfully. His pause was pregnant and agonizing. Carlisle shot another look at Esme, who nodded slightly.

He continued, "And I think I speak for Esme when I say that you both met and surpassed our expectations. We are extremely impressed with what you have brought us today."

I silently exhaled the breath I had been holding prisoner in my lungs.

_Fuck yes_.

I smiled broadly and looked from him to Esme; she was beaming and nodding. "Well, Mr. and Mrs. Cullen," I said cordially, "it was truly our pleasure to come here today and talk with you."

Carlisle stood, and we took that as a cue that the meeting was now officially over. I rose and grasped his extended hand, and he clasped it warmly in both of his. "Please, both of you call me Carlisle."

I was suddenly overwhelmed by the situation. I was pleased by how well this meeting had gone. Mr. and Mrs. Cullen had been warm and friendly, receptive and gracious. But also, I was pleasantly shocked by how effortlessly Edward and I had worked together, easy and without hesitation. In that moment, I felt…

… I felt happy.

"Only if you call me Bella, Carlisle." I said with confidence. He laughed and nodded, with what I hoped was amusement on his face. I took Esme's small hand in mine.

"And of course, I'm Esme. To both of you." She tried to sound stern, but her sweet grin gave her away.

"Well, it's Edward for me, too, please." Edward smiled, and the room lit up for me.

He couldn't be _Edward_ for me, but it was nice to hear, and pretend.

"Again, thank you both so much for coming. We have a lot to talk about… and of course Esme and I need to have a private conversation, discuss some things…"

We had reached the lobby. Laurent was sitting at his desk, speaking quietly to a delivery person. Carlisle and Esme stopped at the desk, and I watched with delight as he quietly took her hand. "But if I may be so bold, Bella, I think I can confidently say that we will be contacting you very soon."

My stomach flipped over, but I smiled coolly. "Please, take your time and feel free to call us with any further questions you might have."

_But fuck me I hope you call soon. _

We said our goodbyes and Edward and I turned and exited into the unseasonably warm Seattle day. For a few moments, we walked in silence, absorbing the sunlight and the enormity of what we might or might not have just pulled off.

I was buzzing again, from the meeting and the electrical current Edward constantly seemed to emit… and my skin craved more of both_. _I could have skipped. I fought the irrational urge to run, to grab Edward's hand in mine and pull him away, anywhere…

_You are acting like a child,_ I scolded myself. _You're a professional and you had an amazing meeting. You did your job. Grow up._

But I couldn't seem to help it. The feeling of giddiness that I felt back in the office was sustaining, spreading throughout my limbs. My mind normally fought these feelings, pushing them away, told myself to focus on the next step… but my _heart_ cried out for more. I felt like I was starving, and I hadn't realized it until right this very second.

I shot Edward a look out of the corner of my eye. He was already looking at me sideways, grinning from ear to ear.

"You were incredible," he said softly. We walked toward the parking lot, and despite the heat my face lit up, bright and hot.

"_We_ were incredible," I said truthfully. We had reached his car. I was high off adrenaline. I felt invincible, reckless. I turned and looked up at him full in the face.

_He is so tall… _I almost giggled_. I don't think I've ever actually stood next to him before._

"I don't think I could have done that without you." The words were out of my mouth before I could swallow them back down. My high was rocked slightly at my confession – but I knew that I truly believed it. The meeting wouldn't have been such a success if he hadn't been a part of it. "I needed you here."

Edward shook his head. "You absolutely could have." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his key. "I'm grateful that I was there to see you work your magic."

The spell had been broken. Reality was seeping in, making my face cold and weak, in direct opposition to the warm sunlight.

_Did I just admit that I needed him? _

Yet again, I was frustrated by my lack of discipline. _I sound pathetic._

I needed to salvage what dignity I had left. I stood rigid and desperately willed the wall go up between us… something to stop this, whatever it was…

"Well." My tone was different, even to my own ears. Edward's smile faltered slightly. He tilted his head as he looked down at me, taking in my changed posture. My heart sank. My hand twitched, and I pressed it flat against my thigh. "I will see you back at the office, Mr. Masen." I turned from his questioning eyes and briskly walked to my car, forcing my steps to stay steady and not break into a sprint.

_Just shut up, Bella._ I fumbled slightly with the key, because my hands were shaking. _You're hopeless. Accept it. You'll never be normal, or casual, or fun. You can't talk to him like that. You just can't._

As I started my car, Edward's Volvo was already pulling away from the parking lot. I watched him as he drove away, around the corner and out of my sight.

_The meeting today? _That's_ what you do. That is the only happiness that you know, that you can understand. _

The air left my lungs in a rush, deafening in the confines of my car. I closed my eyes.

_You can never have Edward Masen because you're a mess and you can't feel and all you know how to do is work and be miserable. That's reality, Isabella. Deal with it._

I started my car and drove.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

By the time I made it back to the office, I was focused again. I had sufficiently beat myself up for feeling so great about the meeting, telling myself that my self-satisfaction was childish and I shouldn't congratulate myself for something that was part of my job. _Good to be reminded._

I made a beeline for my desk. Edward was already back, sitting and talking with Emmett. I forced myself look away. However, before I could make it to my corner, Angela waved at me excitedly.

"Ms. Swan!" Her whisper was urgent. "Mr. Carlisle Cullen is on the line for you!"

My steps faltered only slightly. I briskly nodded to Angela, because I was afraid if I opened my mouth, I might squeak.

_That was… fast._

Like a jury only deliberating for ten minutes before rendering a verdict. Historically, not a good situation for the defendant.

"Bella! Carlisle Cullen."

"Hello, Carlisle. It's good to hear from you so soon!" I looked out the window. Seattle shimmered, blue and grey and green.

"Well, the truth is that we needed very little time to make our decision."

_Okaaaay…_

"I just got off the phone with Mr. Swan, and we told him to go ahead and draw up the contract for you to handle this expansion for us. We think that you and Edward are the very best people for the job, and we would love to work with you both."

I struggled to keep my breathing even.

"Mr. Cul… Carlisle. That is wonderful news." I pressed the receiver into my ear. My hand shook only slightly. "On behalf of Swan Consulting, I thank you for this opportunity and look forward to working with the Cullen Corporation."

"Oh, Swan Consulting as an entity had _something_ to do with it… but truthfully, our decision was based mostly on you, Bella. Esme and I couldn't think of a better, more capable person for this job."

His words cut straight through me. I had just found out that I had landed the most sought-after client that Swan Consulting had ever worked with, a client that officially made me the highest earner in the company and would give me a huge signing bonus and a significant salary increase… and despite all of that, it was Carlisle's praise that hit me the hardest. I wasn't used to someone recognizing my work, let alone trying to make me feel good. I realized with some embarrassment that I was… deeply touched.

_Jesus Bella._ _Compose yourself._

"That is incredibly generous of you, sir. I sincerely hope I can live up to your kind words." I feared my face betrayed my thoughts. I looked down.

"Oh I have no doubt that you will. Now, we'd like to get started on implementing the plans that we had discussed today as soon as possible. I'm sure we will stay in close contact over the next few months, but I would also like to schedule bi-weekly meetings..."

We spoke for the next few minutes, scheduling meetings and discussing logistics. I felt a flash of panic: my work calendar was looking absolutely insane. I was trying not to think about how I was going to balance the Cullen account with all of my established clients, my consultation meetings… I would undoubtedly get it all done, but it would take some work.

_I just have to work harder. Focus._ I could do that.

When we had worked out our meeting and project due dates for the next three months, Carlisle cleared his throat. "Bella, there is something else I wanted to mention to you." I waited.

"As you know, this project that we are working on right now is just the expansion of our construction division," he started. "However, that's just the beginning. Esme and I are planning similar expansions in all areas of our company. Major changes. We're interested in becoming involved in the fields of pharmaceuticals, satellite communications, real estate… for starters. Our online capabilities will be a major focus, and our various philanthropic endeavors are all going to have a major over-haul. In the next five years, Bella, Cullen Corp is looking to expand ten-fold."

My mind was reeling. "Carlisle, that's… incredible." _The entire corporation?_ _Oh my god._ Cullen Corp was already one of the largest companies in the state of Washington. If they expanded their business ventures further, and they wanted Swan Consulting to be a part of it… if they wanted _me_ to be a part of it… this would be big. Huge. Bigger than I had ever imaged.

"Now Bella, Esme and I have a very specific game plan in mind. We don't want to hire some old stuffy man with ample business experience and of pre-conceived notions about how our company _should_ be run. We want someone young and vibrant, someone capable and clever… who would learn and expand right along with the company. We have discussed it at length… and we are already positive that you are exactly the kind of person that we would want to do this with us."

This conversation had become surreal. My mind leapt ahead six months. _How could I do it? How could I find time for all of that? Would I need to bring other consultants in?_ My stomach turned at the thought of having to ask Mike Newton to assist me in managing the Cullen account.

Carlisle seemed to read my mind. "We realize what a time commitment that would be. It would definitely be a full-time job; hell, more than full-time, we expect." His laugh was good-natured,.. and I also thought a bit nervous, perhaps deliberately non-threatening.

"In this economy, Esme and I could easily go out and interview a hundred highly qualified managers and find someone who would be more than adequate… but who would not be nearly as uniquely suited for this situation as you are. And Bella, please forgive me for my boldness, but Esme and I feel strongly enough about this to go ahead and broach the subject with you today."

My hands were stiff over my keyboard. I stared out the window, not seeing the city but rather my own reflection in the window. She looked stunned.

"I realize what a delicate subject this is. Please understand that we would never try to 'steal you away' or try some covert corporate coup… especially given the fact that you are currently working in your family business, with your father. We know how important family is and we would completely understand if your long-term plans are fully committed to working at Swan Consulting for your entire career."

_What the hell is he saying? _

"Make no mistake about it," he continued, "if, when this project is over, you end up only managing the construction division expansion with us, Cullen Corp would be honored to have worked with you and never think twice about it."

My mind began to slowly focus… began to really understand what he was saying to me.

Carlisle continued, "And we first need for you to meet with our Board of Trustees, so they can size you up and see the amazing progress that I am confident that you will be making on this first project. So please be assured that we are not formally offering you a position... yet."

It occurred to me that I was breathing way too loudly, so I held the air in my lungs.

"Oh my." Carlisle laughed, seemingly at himself. "I have gone on, haven't I? Let's cut to the chase, Bella. What I am asking is: if this project goes well for both of us, and when we eventually get the green light to begin our major expansion…would you be open to the possibility of a more… formal relationship with Cullen Corporation? Permanent and full-time? Please, for god sake, feel free to say no, or to tell me to go kick rocks." His tone was sincere. He finally stopped talking, leaving me in a chaotic silence that bounced around in my head wildly.

I was at an utter loss for words.

It was ridiculous, of course. The whole topic. Carlisle Cullen intended on offering me a job working for the Cullen Corp. I _couldn't_ go work for him. I had a job to which I had dedicated my entire life for the past three years. It was my family business. I was good at my job, and I couldn't just walk away from it. Out of the question. _Shit_. _Shit_. I would have to let him down easy. I mean, this client was my whole life right now. Going to work for another company… deviating from the carefully laid plans that I had worked for so intensely for what felt like my whole life…

"Yes."

_Wait… what?_

It was like I was watching myself through thick glass.

"Yes, I would be open to that discussion."

My voice was muffled, not my own. But it _was_ me, it _was_ my own voice… and I understood what I was saying.

"Say no more, Bella. We have plenty of time to visit this again, and I want to quit while I am ahead." Carlisle sounded pleased and completely oblivious to the silent turmoil happening on my side of the phone. "Esme and I couldn't be happier with how all of this turned out. Thank you again for your time today. I will see you in a few weeks for our first progress meeting. Goodbye."

I set the phone down and stared out the window. The city below me breathed and moved. I felt like I was sitting in a clean, white haze: still, quiet, solitary. Frozen. I was shocked. I was scared. I had no idea what I had just done… I didn't even hear the chirp of my Outlook alerting me that I had an email.

"Ms. Swan!" I jumped slightly in my seat, startled. Angela stood in front of me. Her hands were twisting together and her voice was still in that urgent, excited whisper.

"Ms. Swan," she repeated. "You got it!"

I slowly became aware of my surroundings. A wave of déjà vu hit me; I had sat in this exact same spotlight just five days ago.

Without moving my head, I swept my eyes around the room. Some people were speaking excitedly to one another, others were leaning close and talking in low voices.

The one common thread: everyone was staring directly at me.

Well, all except two people in particular. Mike was staring at his computer in silence, his eyes narrow and hard. Jessica was also looking at her monitor, but her expression was incredulous, unbelieving.

My hand immediately flew to my forehead, nervously sweeping away my bangs. "How did you know?" I whispered back to her.

"We all just got the email about the new client."

I glanced at the closed door to the CEO's office. _His company officially lands their biggest client ever, and he sent out a mass email. I'll hold my breath for my 'atta-girl.'_

I briskly pushed aside the dull ache, not giving it time to settle and become real and effecting.

"Ms. Swan, congratulations! This is incredible news!" Angela's genuine excitement penetrated my haze.

"Yes, we did. We got the Cullens." I took a deep breath. My mouth twitched. "We got it." I felt a swell of pride.

I did it. We did it._ Edward and me._

_Edward_.

My eyes immediately searched for him. He wasn't sitting at his desk. I continued to seek stupidly, because for some reason I needed to know where he was. I found him in the back corner of the office, standing with Emmett and a small group of people. Emmett was clapping him on the back jovially, voice booming and gesturing wildly with his tree branch-like arms. Edward was leaning backward against a desk, his hand launching an enthusiastic assault on his hair.

I was not surprised to find that he was watching me.

The rest of the room faded away. The stares, the voices, the tension… the Cullens, the Swans, work and demands, choking stress and confusing propositions…

In that moment, all I saw was emeralds.

I felt every individual beat in my chest. I was surrounded by him.

"Ms. Swan." Angela's was tentative, shy. "Would you… would you like to come to the bar with us tonight? You might already know… we all go every Friday. You're always more than welcome to come with us, but tonight we're going to celebrate!" She smiled at me, sweet and heartfelt.

I felt like I'd been doused with cold water.

"Oh." She had caught me off-guard. My fingers twisted together. "Ms. Weber, I…"

_Yes, Angela. I would love that. A drink sounds great._

But my lips wouldn't move. _Couldn't_ move. I had experienced enough emotional mayhem today… I couldn't do something as reckless as casual socializing. So much was changing, _could_ change. The position I was in now… too much was at stake.

"Thank you so much for the offer, but…" I shook my head slightly. "I can't. I don't think it would be a good idea."

I felt awful. I felt empty, devoid of the happiness I felt a moment ago. I smiled at her lamely, because it was the only thing I could offer her.

"Oh, okay. I was hoping… never mind. Of course." Angela fidgeted with the hem of her sweater. "Congratulations again, Ms. Swan. You truly deserve this." Her gaze met mine, sincere and firm. "I'm going to be a little late getting there tonight, but I will definitely be there, just in case you change your mind." She gave me a small smile before she turned and walked away from me.

My stomach clenched miserably. Angela was so kind to me, but I didn't know how to accept it. I knew how to sell myself to a multi-million dollar company, but I didn't know how to be friendly with my co-workers. I didn't even know how to fucking be_ me _anymore.

_And five days ago I wouldn't have cared._

My phone rang; it was my private line. I almost let it go, but at the last ring I picked up it. I needed the distraction. "Isabella Swan."

"Bella?" Alice's voice tended to raise an entire octave when she was excited. "I was hoping you'd be back!" She paused. I said nothing. "Well? How did it go?"

_She was a goddamn psychic. _

"Alice…" I glance around the room surreptitiously. Luckily, I wasn't the most interesting thing in the room anymore… at least not to look at. Everyone seemed to be up and visiting someone else's desk, whispering, discussing. The only person who seemed to still think I was visually interesting was Mike, who was now glaring at me. I ducked my head.

"Alice… They contracted with me. I got it."

I held the phone away from my ear to avoid permanent damage. "Bella! Oh my god, I knew it. I am so proud of you!" She made me smile, despite the regret that was gnawing at my stomach. "We have to go celebrate. Tonight. No excuses."

"Ali… I have a lot of work to do." She groaned. I traced the wood grain on my desk with my finger. "Plus, I already turned down Angela's invitation to go get a drink..."

Silence.

_Uh oh._

I pressed the receiver to my ear and glanced out the window, futilely hoping that she would leave it alone, allow me to exult and suffer in silence.

"Tell her you're coming." Her voice was a normal timbre now, and had taken on that scary, decisive, this-is-the-deal voice.

"What? Ali, I can_not_ do that."

"Why not?"

I had no answer, at least not one I could put into words. I couldn't vocalize my panic, my confusion, my irrational fear that a bar could somehow be my undoing.

"Yes you can," she said simply. "Go tell Angela that you will meet them at the bar."

My face grew hot. I was trapped, but I wasn't going down without a fight. "I'm wearing my Armani … so I can't go." _Lame_.

"I'll meet you there and bring you a change of clothes. 5:30pm. Bye, Bells." The line went dead.

_Shit. _

Sitting in that warm, sunny lobby this morning, I had felt confident and strong. Sitting at my own empty desk, I felt completely and utterly inept. This was so much easier when I wasn't feeling anything... Now, I was sweating and fretting like a teenager who was about to ask the pretty girl for an uncomfortable, arms-length slow-dance.

_I am being absurd. I am a grown, professional woman. I can have one drink with my best friend and co-workers. And I can stop being such a pussy and go tell Angela I'm coming._

I was walking toward her desk before I could either convince myself not to, or jump out the window. I kept my eyes trained on Angela, who was now chatting with Emmett. I didn't see Edward until I was already there. He was casually leaning against Angela's counter, completely blocked by Emmett's girth. _Too late to back out..._

"Ms. Weber?" I stood there stiffly, feeling exposed and awkward. Emmett and Edward angled their heads toward me. All three faces registered surprised.

"Ms. Swan! Is there something I can do for you?"

"Yes. No." I cleared my throat. I was flustered and red.

_They think I'm insane. Insanity manifested by indecisiveness and wild blushing._

Edward bent his head forward slightly to gain a better view from around Emmett's massive chest.

"I wanted to take you up on your offer. I will go get a drink tonight."

Angela beamed at me, but Edward's crooked smile was all I saw.

Emmett stood up straight; even in my heels, he was well over a foot taller than me and more than twice as wide. I had to look straight up at him.

"Yes! Ms. Swaaaaaan!" Emmett's grin was luminous, enormous. "I am buying _you_ a congratulatory shot tonight. No question." He stuck his massive ham-hock of a fist out at me and held it there in mid-air. "Pound it!"

I eyed his balled-up hand, and then back up at his smiling face. He raised his eyebrows and jiggled his outstretched fist.

I reached out and tentatively bumped my smaller fist with his huge one.

Edward laughed.

_Here we go._

* * *

**The response you guys gave me for the last chapter was effing overwhelming. I read and respond to every single review, and I can't tell you enough how much I appreciate each and every one of you. Thank you thank you **_**thank you**_**. **

**Sincere gratitude goes out to Oxymoronic8 for recommending **_**Disciplined Breakdown**_**in her interview for, "The Lazy Yet Discerning Ficster." I am truly honored for her attention. Do yourself a favor and go check out her story, **_**Innocent, Vigilant, Ordinary.**_

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**Thank you for being here.**

- ahealthyaddiction


	6. Chapter 5

**I'm thankful for Dawnie. She's amazing, and I'm very lucky to know her.**

* * *

At 5pm on the dot, damn near every Swan Consulting employee rose in a seemingly practiced unison and made a hasty beeline for the elevator doors. By 5:20pm, the only people left were me and just a few departing stragglers.

I sat there in miserable limbo, pretending to work and trying to not pull my bangs out by the roots as I swept them near-obsessively back behind my ear. I was determined to hide in this corner until the very last possible second. Like a coward, I began to formulate elaborate lies that might somehow extricate me from this situation.

I could tell Alice that something came up at work… _Oh!_ I had it: a big client had a plumbing emergency and needed for me to come out to their office in person…

I shook my head. _She will _never_ let me get away with that. She'd hunt the client down and insist on inspecting the water damage herself. What else… _Perhaps I could tell Angela that I wasn't feeling well, and have her pass the news along to my diminutive friend. When Alice came home, I could be curled up on the bathroom floor, moaning and heaving… I would happily lay in wait on cold bathroom tiles all night if it would confirm my alibi.

But _shit_, Angela was gone already and I didn't have her cell number. And goddamnit, she said she was going to be late, anyway…

Maybe I got lost… on the two block journey.

Maybe I stopped a mugging, and the victim insisted on buying me dinner in gratitude.

Maybe I got hit by a semi-truck transporting baby food to orphans… but I will make a miraculous recovery tomorrow.

_Sigh_.

Or maybe… I was a loser who agonized over getting a drink with her co-workers and was actually considering resorting to lying to her best friend to get out of it.

_Fucking hell._ I couldn't stall any longer.

I grabbed my purse and stood, looking around my immaculate desk one more time for a scrap of paper, a post-it, _anything_ that would call for a little more of my attention… No such luck.

I shuffled toward the lobby like I was wading through mud. I futilely hoped for something, _anything_ to intervene… Perhaps a bear could pop out from behind a plant and maul me badly enough so that I couldn't go socialize?

No such luck.

I heard a noise behind me, and it startled me from my pity-party. I spun around in time to see light spill out into the darkened room… followed closely by our reclusive CEO.

I stayed completely quiet as I watched my father walk a few steps into the main room and then stand, stoic and immobile, like a bronzed statue.

A memory hit me then, acrid and sharp, vibrant images coming at me fast and clogging my throat. This place looked so different in my youthful recollection: objects were blurry and huge, their edges blunted. Colors were more saturated, like they were painted with heavy brushstrokes.

It was my father from nearly twenty years ago, standing in almost the exact same spot. Charlie was younger-looking in my mind's eye: broader back and thinner waist, missing the white that now peppered his thick brown hair. He always looked _so big_ to me… larger than life. A gentle giant, a super hero, a brave knight from a story.

_My father had turned to me as I as stood in this very lobby, my curls shaking as I bounced on my toes. I'd insisted on wearing my pretty purple dress to the office, because Daddy said it made me look like a princess and I would do anything to make Daddy happy. Charlie turned and when he saw me, and a huge smile lit up his rough features… His face was so much smoother back at that time, brighter… There were no scowl lines etched into the pale surface. He laughed then, musical and light, and he opened his arms wide… I launched myself at him, and the material of his suit was rough against my cheek as he picked me up off my feet… _

Charlie Swan remained still for another moment before he turned his head, eyes sweeping the empty bullpen in a slow circle. He pivoted his body, continuing his silent surveillance until he finally completed his turn… to find me standing there. His eyes met mine, and I saw them widen ever so slightly as he realized that he wasn't alone and, unfortunately, it was me with whom he was stranded.

I was no longer his princess, and he didn't smile for me anymore, yet here we stood.

"Bella." Charlie squared his shoulders, and his mustache twitched as he stated my name. I had my father's eyes - melted chocolate, bittersweet, dark and deep. I brushed my bangs back, and I saw that he watched my hand move; my father still knew my nervous tics. It made me feel vulnerable.

The silence stretched on.

"We got the Cullen account." My voice echoed off the lobby walls, hollow-sounding.

Charlie just watched me. He made no movements. His arms stayed firmly at his sides.

"I am aware."

My fists had formed tight balls in the pockets of my coat.

"_I_ got the Cullen account," I clarified, forcing the words from between clenched teeth. _This is useless._ I had no specific desired outcome, no real expectations for this encounter. I knew Charlie would do nothing to soothe the ache in my chest, the dull, throbbing void that was pathetically reserved only for him… but, like a masochist, I was doing this anyway. Like I could change something about the last seven years… hell, the last twenty years, for that matter.

Charlie just stared.

"I am aware," he repeated. His voice was cool as marble, and just as hard.

_What are you expecting here, Bella? For him to praise you? Shake your hand? Hug you and ruffle your hair and take you out for ice cream? _

_Grow up. _

The floor between us might as well have been a thousand miles wide. Our postures were mirrored, tense and stiff, as we silently willed the other to move first.

_Stop it, Isabella. He's just my boss, and he doesn't owe me a fucking kudo… and I don't need one._

It was an exercise in futility, and I was ashamed I'd said anything at all. I'd heard enough.

"Goodnight, Mr. Swan," I said softly. I turned and entered the elevator, not needing to hear anything else.

The silver doors slid shut.

Once I was outside, I pulled my coat tighter around me. I shook my head, as if I could physically dislodge memories that I would rather not still have at all. I heaved a great sigh and shot a hesitant look down the street, in the direction of the bar. The encounter with Charlie had done nothing to calm my nerves, and I still had to go face "fun" in the form of a stupid bar and public humiliation. _Shit_.

_There's got to be something I can do to make this less excruciating…_

I smiled. _Of course._ I dialed.

Jasper told me that he was "positively delighted" to hear from me. He honestly used those words, and I immediately felt a little better. Jasper's stream-of-consciousness thoughts flowed from his mouth freely, like a softly rushing river: in the same breath, he told me in a thoughtful tone how he could meet me in five minutes, that he was sort of in the mood for a cheese steak, and mused out loud if he should wear his new top hat.

Jazz had this inane ability to comfort those around him, and I was certainly not immune to this gift. I loved listening to him talk about whatever popped into his head, allowing his calm to wash over me in warm waves and diffuse a situation with little more than his natural, easy personality… I just genuinely enjoyed Jasper's company, and I couldn't wait to see him. I didn't mention anything about the meeting with the Cullens, because I wanted to surprise him in person.

The bar was named New Moon, and it was located just down the street from the office. I saw the sign ahead of me now, neon blue and blinking. The anthropomorphic moon smiled down at me crazily, impatiently… and I had the urge to run away. Fast. And I really might have, too, if not for the fear that in an all-out sprint I would break my ankle in these shoes.

I stood at the entrance, hesitating.

_I could just go back. Right now. Walk away. _Run_ away._

I placed my hand flat on the door. I stared at the scared surface.

_I have work to do._

The wood was rough beneath my palm.

_Alice would forgive me… _

A loud creak of rusty hinges announced my decision.

I paused in the doorway. The place was the quintessential dive-bar: seedy and dark, dull glowing colors penetrating dim light. Flat wooden square of a dance floor, colorful jukebox squatting in the corner, shadowy booths housing gently moving figures. I was relieved to see Alice already waiting for me at a table. She had a tote bag sitting in front of her.

_Oh holy mother of god. What's in the bag?_

She spun around when she heard the door open.

"Bella!" she squeaked, her small arms stretching out toward me.

During our time as friends, I had heard more than one person try to liken Alice to a pixie. I understood why; it was an easy association to make due to her small size, tinkling voice and bubbly disposition. I'd admit, the analogy had certainly occurred to me when we had first met.

But good luck to anyone who said it directly to Alice. The comparison made her absolutely furious. Alice, more than anyone in my life, had taught me that looks could definitely be deceiving. She was petite, sure, but I had seen Alice bench press more than her body weight ten times _and_ take down a fully grown man in a martial arts class. She wasn't all sugar and spice. Alice was no joke. Also, I wondered if they would still use the term "pixie-like" if they saw the semi-nude pin-up girl tattoo mapping her entire right thigh, or if they heard the filthy things that came out of her mouth when she had a few drinks in her. Somehow, I doubted it.

Alice was in my arms before I had time to really look around, or speak, or blink. She immediately grabbed my elbow and steered me toward the back of the room, chattering the whole way.

"Bella, I am so happy we're here! I knew you'd nail it today. I'm buying you your first drink, I've already picked it out…" We entered the ladies bathroom together, her small body guiding the way and her excited chatter never ceasing. She pushed us both into the larger stall and locked the door.

"Here. Put these on." The bag was suddenly in my hands, and Alice stood back, eyebrows raised. "And for the love of god, _be careful _with that gorgeous suit."

I opened the bag… and froze. I was immediately reminded of that nightmare where you're standing naked in front of your classmates. Alice wasn't asking me to go out there nude, but this felt almost as bad.

She had packed her favorite pair of my jeans; they were designer, dark denim, and dear god, they even made me want to take a bite out of my _own_ ass. She'd picked equally embarrassing shoes; ankle-length boots, black leather and, regrettably, adorable.

"Alice." I held up the shirt. It was a rich jewel-toned blue with an outrageous halter-cut that left my arms bare. I'd bought it months ago and had yet to find a circumstance to wear it. Alice had apparently deemed this the occasion.

"I can_not_ wear this."

She crossed her arms. "Why?"

"These people have never seen me outside of the office. They've never seen me out of a suit. I don't even know if they are aware that I _have_ arms, for fucksake." I shook the shirt at her. "This is too much. For them!"

"No, it's not," she said simply. "It's hot yet modest, and you'll look incredible. I even brought the right bra." She already had it in her hands and was waving it in front of my face and smiling wickedly.

_Of course you did. Because it's hot pink and lacey and why _wouldn't_ you bring me sexy lingerie to wear around my peers?_

"Don't fight me, Bella. You'll lose. Put. It. On." Her tone was absolute. I opened my mouth to protest, but Alice rolled her eyes and reached over, unbuttoned my jacket, and was tugging it down my arms before the words could leave my mouth.

I sighed, exasperated. There was absolutely no fighting her. I slapped her hands away and began to undress myself.

"I called Jasper. He's on his way." I folded my suit carefully, handing it to her.

"Jasper! That's fantastic! It's been ages since I've seen him." She scrunched her face at her reflection in the mirror and fussed with her spiky black hair. Alice was always accidentally glamorous. She was wearing purple tights under a black jean skirt and a simple t-shirt, dressed up with some chunky gold jewelry and a short leather jacket. She dressed up by not dressing up. "I'm so glad he's coming. I guess he needs to celebrate too, huh?"

"Exactly, but he doesn't know it yet." I scrutinized myself in the mirror. "My hair looks… inappropriate." She rolled her eyes and gestured for me to lean down. Alice unclipped my long curls and did some twisty-thing, and like magic it was stylishly knotted at the base of my neck, bangs swept sideways, curly tendrils falling around me face. I appraised myself again. Alice's reflection beamed at me, her crazy smile reflected next to my pouty red frown.

"You look great." She shook her head at my wide, terrified eyes. "You're psyching yourself out. This is you and I having a drink, nothing more. Relax. Stop fucking blushing. Ready?"

_She's right. I need to do this. I'm being stupid... I'm just having some weird panic attack. Some weird, never-ending, catastrophic panic attack. Yup. I'm insane. _

Alice seemed to read my mind. "Try new things, right?" She grabbed my hand. "All in?"

I drew in a deep breath. "All in. Let's go." She smiled at me as she unlocked the door. We stepped out together.

I was finally able to take a cautious look around, and I had to swallow bitter panic when I realized just how many faces I recognized. I knew that this was a popular after-work watering hole, but I was still surprised at the turnout. There were at least fifteen people from our office in booths, at the bar, or moving awkwardly on the dance floor.

_How _could_ I have any idea how many people hang out here? I've never been here. Because I'm allergic to having any fun. _

Alice flashed a smile up at the bartender.

"Please get the lady whatever she wants, but first set up that shot we talked about before, okay?" He nodded and immediately got to work, mixing and measuring. He was cute, with a baby face and skinny arms. Not my type, but okay.

Alice turned to me. She poked me in the shoulder with her index finger. "Drink whatever he gives you." Her voice still had that terrifying, _don't argue with me_ tone. "I'm just going to run out to the car and put away your suit. Don't fidget with your bangs, either." Before I could draw in a breath, she was out the door, leaving me alone. At a bar. In scandalous clothes.

_Where is a fucking lightning bolt when you need one?_

I leaned against the bar and looked to my left. I immediately recognized two of my co-workers - accountants, I believed. I wasn't sure. They were each holding a beer, ties loosened… and neither one was trying too hard to hide their open, shocked stares aimed directly at me. I averted both my eyes and looked to my right… only to find two more co-workers pretty much in identical stances and states of interest.

_Please don't feed the animal, gentlemen._

The bartender set a shot in front of me. "A Washington Apple. It's what your friend ordered for you." He pointed at it. "Her instructions were to make sure you drank that, you know." He leaned over the bar. "People don't argue with her much, do they?"

I took the cool shot glass in my hand. "You have no idea." He laughed as I tossed back the drink. The empty glass clacked against the hard wood. "I'll take a single-malt scotch, neat, with a splash of water, please."_ Quickly._

"You got it." As he busied himself making my drink, I realized that I had a view of the entire bar in the gigantic mirror on the wall behind the bar. I took a moment to look around.

Edward definitely wasn't here yet, and I told myself I didn't care. I was grateful that I at least wasn't being _blatantly_ stared at now; people were just sneaking glances here and there. I did note that some of the looks I was receiving now were less, _hey-check-out-that-freak_, and were more along the lines of, _hey-check-out-that-ass_. My acquaintances to the right and the left of me appeared to be coming over to the latter camp, and I wasn't sure which made me more uncomfortable.

_Alice, where the hell are you?_

"Bells!"

I turned toward the voice and there Jasper stood, in all his glory. He was wearing black skinny jeans, checkerboard vans, and a pinstriped navy blue blazer. His blonde hair was long and shaggy and, god bless him, he had gone with the top hat. Jasper politely removed his hat and placed it under his arm, almost primly, like a Victorian chap. He looked like a modern anachronism; a charming punk-rock gentleman. He beamed as he strode toward me.

"Hello, beautiful!" He tossed his hat on the bar and scooped me up into a big hug. Every head in the joint was now turned in his direction, but he was completely aloof to any attention he was attracting. His shaggy hair tickled my burning cheek.

I shut my eyes and smiled into his shoulder. Jasper was quirky and colorful and wonderful, as perhaps geniuses were supposed to be. He was fearless, just like Alice; maybe that's why I got along with him so well. He was intensely empathetic toward the suffering of others, but completely disregarded any judgments that others placed upon him. I had always been protective over Jasper, and he told me time and time again to ignore the stupid stares and the whispers.

"_Bella, you can't worry about what other people think of you,"_ he would always tell me. _"You'll go crazy. Just be yourself… and if they don't like how you roll, fuck 'em."_

Two minutes ago, I was feeling self-conscious and timid. However, in that moment we stood embracing and I could practically feel the stares burning into Jasper's sweet face, my mama-bear side kicked in and I decided right then and there to try and take Jasper's advice.

_Screw it,_ I thought. _Let 'em look._ I squeezed him back.

"Hello, Jazz. Love the hat." The bartender had set my drink in front of me.

"Thanks! I'm partial to it." He slapped his hand on the bar. "So? What are we having? Your usual gasoline?" I nodded. Jasper turned to the bartender. "Then I will _not_ have what the lady is having. Jack and Coke, please." Jazz raised it to me.

"So what should we toast to, boss?" He leaned against the bar. "Friendship? Canada? Reality television?"

"Those are good." I looked up at the ceiling, feeling calmer and a bit more bold. I shrugged. "How about to… new clients?" Jasper cocked his head at me quizzically. "_Lucrative_ new clients." His blue eyes widened, and he slowly set his glass back on the bar top. "Lucrative new clients who flipped the fuck out over their new advertising campaign."

"Are you serious?" Jazz grabbed my shoulders. "Bella." He wasn't joking now. I nodded, and for the first time since I had walked through the door, I was excited.

"I meant to ask you, Jazz, would you be interested in officially contracting with me to handle the advertising needs for the Cullen Corporation?"

His squatted down slightly and shifted his gaze back and forth between my eyes. I nodded again. Bit by bit, he registered belief and his entire face lit up, like a sleepy child seeing his presents on Christmas morning.

"Bella!" He picked me up around my waist and spun me away from the bar. "Are you kidding?" He had to hold me away to look at me once more, as I was still suspended in mid-air. "Serious? Serious serious?"

I nodded, laughing. "Super serious." My legs dangled and my bare arms were locked around his neck. "Jasper, they loved your drawings. I mean _loved_. They want to work with me, and they told me that they want _you_ handling their advertising. All of it. Exclusively."

As Jasper processed my news, my eyes went over his shoulder to the front door.

And of course, there he was.

My eyes drank him in from the bottom up. Gone was the uniform of a corporate automaton, of an IT nerd who worked on computers all day… and though I thought he looked beautiful all the time, right now I actually had to remind myself to breathe…

Long hard legs in dark dirty-washed jeans. Black dress shirt, unbuttoned to reveal just a sliver of a printed t-shirt, the white writing strained against his wide chest; I wanted to read it with my fingertips. A skinny black tie hanging haphazardly around his neck; he would make sinning look sophisticated. Jaw line and cheeks and straight nose carved from pale marble, hurricane hair begging for either a vigorous combing or a finger-fucking… and right then I would have volunteered for either job.

He was the sexiest, most incredible, most appetizing man I'd never had the pleasure of sleeping with…

_What? _I blinked stupidly._ Am I drunk already? _

Green eyes locked to mine naturally. I had no idea how long I'd been staring, with my heart thundering in my chest and my rubbery limbs singing with nervous energy. Heat hit me from the top and bottom, flooding my face and throbbing between my legs.

I was spinning again, and it took me a beat to realize that I was physically moving. "Bella, I can't believe this!" Jasper exclaimed. When our twirl came to a stop, I immediately sought him again, but Edward had looked away. I felt stupidly… empty. Robbed of electric green and warmth. Jasper was warm and dry, but he didn't burn me the way my body craved to be scorched.

Emmett's hulking frame entered the bar right behind Edward, and poor guy had to duck just to pass through the door. Directly after Emmett came Alice, who was just returning from her trek to the car. The contrast was amusing: Emmett was about a foot and a half taller than Alice, and probably outweighed her by nearly 200 pounds. She glanced up at him warily and quickly darted away, as if she were afraid he would unknowingly step backward and squash her flat – honestly, sort of a valid concern.

"Alice," I whispered quietly in Jasper's ear.

I felt his arms briefly squeeze me tighter before he finally set me down on my feet. Alice was striding toward us, and when she saw Jasper she grinned and ran forward.

"Jazz!" She leapt up and he caught her. He swung her around so he faced me, and I watched his eyes close and his cheek press lightly into the top of her head. His gentle, quiet reverence in that moment tore through me. He released her, reluctance in his grey eyes. He smiled broadly.

"Hey, Ali. Long time no see." He pushed his curly hair back behind his ears. "How the hell have you been?"

"I've been great… how the fuck are you, stud?" She looked at him curiously, one eyebrow raised.

"Pretty fucking fantastic, now that Bella scored me the biggest job of my life!"

"Yay!" She jumped up and hugged him again. "I'm so glad she told you!" I couldn't decide which was likely making Jasper happier: his newly inflated income, or being so close to Alice. It was probably a toss-up. I winked at him from behind Alice's back.

"Well then, Mr. Whitlock, I assume you're buying this next round, right?" He laughed as Alice waved at the bartender. "What are you having, Bells? Your usual moonshine?"

I picked up my scotch and jiggled it at her, "Alice, I haven't been able to take a single sip of my first one yet. Slow down, Earnhardt."

She looked at me, disgusted. "Okay, a few things: A. Hurry up, bitch. B. I'm ordering shots, and they don't count as 'drinks.' They're freebies. And C. Tonight is a no-excuse zone, Swan. Man up."

Jasper laughed again, his smiling face never leaving Alice's stern profile.

I rolled my eyes and took a swig of my drink. _Oh… yes. _It was smoky and bold and it seared its way along my tongue, slid like hot metal down the back of my throat. _Liquid sex. _Memories from the other morning came to me then, the sensations all blurring together in my mind; hot fingers and searing alcohol, moving and drinking and entering, unfulfilled aching, burning the pit of my stomach. I took another swallow.

My eyes went back to the mirror and settled on the table at which Edward and Emmett were now sitting. I watched him covertly from under my eyelashes, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. He was talking with Emmett and laughing hard. His hand raked his hair, and I gritted my teeth against the fluttering in my chest. He was just so fucking beautiful. As I watched him, I saw his eyes flicker sideways…

… and glance directly at my back.

My breath caught.

_Did he look… at me? _

_No of course not. Why would he? Unless he wanted to gawk at me, like everyone else… I wouldn't blame him._

But wait… _right_ _there_. Again, his emerald eyes shot my way, directly at my turned back. In total disbelief, I watched as Edward continued to shoot furtive glances in my direction. My stomach did somersaults and I sipped more scotch to calm my raging nerves, which were churning for no good reason.

_Calm down Bella, he probably wants another drink. Drinks are at the bar. You are _at_ the bar._ That made perfect sense. I took a deep breath and tried desperately to stop staring at him before Alice or Jasper noticed...

Was he… watching at me, the same secret way I was watching him?

Emmett stood up then, unfolding his massive frame before striding over toward the bar… and directly toward me. His grin was toothy and bright, and his gait was so much more carefree than would seem possible for a man of his sheer size. I stiffened, and fought with my immediate "flight" instinct.

Alice always knew when I was getting stressed. It was like she could sense my muscles begin to tighten, and feel the tension start to roll off me in hot waves. I could see her studying me out of the corner of her eye, and I had no doubt that she was ready to block my exit in case I decided to bolt. _Goddamn psychic_.

"Ms. Swaaaaan!" Emmett towered over the wooden bar. "Hey Eric, two Newcastles please, and four shots of Patron for each of us up here." Emmett winked. "Congratulatory, remember?" He leaned casually against the bar, his long legs crossed at the ankles. "Also, if I may say so, the lighting in this shithole suits you beautifully… ma'am."

The Washington Apple in my stomach and his teasing smile suddenly lent me a strange surge of bravery.

"I wish I could say the same for you, Mr. McCarthy." His eyebrows shot up, and his mouth opened in surprise. He looked stunned for a split second before releasing a loud, barking laugh. It felt _so good_ to finally tease Emmett back. My smile was hesitant… but it felt good to really smile.

"Mr. McCarthy, these are my friends, Alice and Jasper. Guys, this is Emmett McCarthy. He's our lead IT tech, and he has apparently bought you each a shot."

The three exchanged pleasantries. Alice's entire hand disappeared up past her wrist into Emmett's baseball glove-sized fist. Eric the bartender lined up the drinks, and Emmett doled them out. I downed mine obediently, cringing and earning another laugh from Emmett. We each thanked him and spoke for a few minutes, and he was definitely amused when Alice looked straight up at him and sweetly called him "fucking enormous." He politely responded by calling her "fucking petite," and we all shared a laughed.

"Pleasure to meet you, Alice and Jasper. Please, call me Emmett… none of the 'Mr. McCarthy' stuff." He grabbed his beers and gestured toward me with his chin. "Maybe try and get your friend to do the same." Hot humiliation flooded my face, and my mouth burned with scotch and embarrassment.

Emmett nudged me with his elbow. "Hey." I looked up at him; quite literally, my neck strained backward as I looked straight up into his warm eyes. "It's honestly nice to see you here," he said. "I hope it happens again."

I fought the ridiculous urge to hug him.

He gave me one more prod before he walked back to his table. I averted my eyes before they could inevitably attach to Edward.

"Holy god." Alice watched Emmett walk away. "He must be part giant. Or rhinoceros."

I laughed and took another swig of my drink. My arms and legs were beginning to tingle now, and I felt liquid courage beginning to pump hot through my veins.

A shrill laugh swiftly filled the room, and I cringed. _Whoa_. _Buzz kill._

Jessica looked like a horny teenager's wet dream in a tight white miniskirt, tall white boots and a revealing red zip up top._ She looks like a slutty lollipop. _I realized that my nervousness was swiftly abating with every searing sip I took. _A Blow-pop! _I giggled quietly, feeling pretty damn good.

She was with two other girls that I didn't recognize. Jessica literally stopped in her tracks when she saw me standing at the bar, and she immediately began whispering to her companions, making a show of covering her mouth and keeping her eyes fixed directly on me. I almost laughed out loud - it was so ridiculous. Her presence made me feel oddly validated for being the better woman in this situation. My laughter died in my throat when she turned and sashayed directly over to Edward's table.

I watched as he and Emmett looked up in surprise, but eventually smiled politely at the three women. I seethed as Jessica and Edward spoke for a moment before she suddenly burst out again with her piercing cackle, her blonde hair shaking and spilling down her back. Her hand grasped Edward's bicep.

I looked away, and took another drink of my scotch.

"Ms. Swan!" Angela was suddenly standing at my side. My mind was beginning to spin from all of the action and visitors, and I beginning to struggle to keep up. "I'm so glad you came," she exclaimed happily.

I was truly glad to see her, and I was momentarily taken aback by her appearance. Gone was the frumpy cardigan sweater that she always wore to work, and instead she sported casual jeans and a simple green blouse. Her hair was loose flowing, framing her round face. When she tried, I realized, Angela was actually quite striking. Her relaxed body language was also nice to see… she was so tense at work, and she always seemed stressed...

_Ha_. I wondered if she thought the same about me.

"Thank you for inviting me… Ms. Weber." The usage of her last name felt odd in the dim lights of the bar, and my tongue stumbled over my words. Angela just smiled kindly.

"Of course." She ordered two bottles of Bud Light Lime. "It's a little ghetto in here, but it's close to the office and the drinks are cheap." She grabbed her drinks and faced me. "Anyway, I should be getting back to my boyfriend, Ben… That's him right there." I heard adoration in her voice as she gestured to a booth. A small blonde guy in black glasses identical to Angela's gave us a small wave. She waved back to him.

"He seems very nice." Despite my slightly lowered inhibitions, I still felt a little awkward as unused to speaking with Angela so casually… but luckily for me, Angela could see nothing but the blonde boy.

"He's my other half," she sighed. She was so sincere, and her happiness tugged at my heart and my swimming brain.

I introduced Angela to my friends before bidding her goodbye and thanking her again for the invite. Her boyfriend looked genuinely happy to see her walking back to him.

"They're adorable," whispered Alice in my ear.

"Sickeningly so," I responded. She chuckled.

Alice insisted that we each take another shot. By now, my skin was buzzing and my lips felt looser. My posture was relaxed as I leaned against the smooth bar. Jasper, Ali and I ended up standing there for a long time, drinking and talking and reminiscing.

I realized, with complete and utter shock, that I was honestly having a good time.

I took a deep breath as I watched Jasper enthusiastically act out a story for Alice. She was laughing hard, clutching her side and slapping at Jasper's arm.

_I have been missing this, _I thought. _Maybe… I can do this again… maybe the little sprite was right. _

I felt lighter. Hopeful, even. _Weird_. I laughed at myself and my internal conversation, and Alice gave me a sweet smile.

Not surprisingly, however, I hadn't _completely_ shaken my discomfort. I tried to smile at the appropriate moments when Alice referenced me in a story or comment, but my stomach was still gently twirling and I couldn't help but occasionally shoot glances in the mirror, nervously taking in my surroundings. I tried to concentrate on observing the dynamic between Alice and Jasper. They talked on and on, their conversation an endless stream of sound punctuated only by brief moments of stolen breath.

_Ya know what? I'm thinking too fucking much._ I sipped my scotch and tried to steady my breathing. _You're doing fine, Bella._

My eyes drifted around the bar… everywhere _expect_ the back table where my eyes were trying so hard to find rest.

If there was something going on between Jessica and Edward… w_hich, by the way, is totally fine... _I just didn't want to see it. _Not like I would care or anything…_ _I just don't want to witness it first-hand. I mean, we work together now. We should keep our personal lives separate. _Perfectly reasonable.

I told myself that I felt better.

"Let's go grab a table," Alice commanded, picking up her drink. Jasper followed closely behind her, his hand making light contact with her back when she wobbled just a bit. "You coming, Bells?"

I drained the remainder of my scotch in one swallow. "I'm going to get another drink and I'll be right there."

Alice clapped her hands. "Yes! Get me another one too, k? On Jasper." He laughed as they walked away together, still chatting happily.

I turned back to the bar, keeping my eyes cast downward. "Another scotch and water for me, please? And a screwdriver for the little one." Eric laughed and went to work.

I placed my hands flat on the bar, stabilizing myself. _Whew. When is the last time I drank? _I couldn't remember. Courage and nervousness buzzed through me, making my head light and my mind loose.

I looked at Alice and Jasper in my secret mirror. They were sitting now, their heads bent close, eyes sparkling. I allowed myself to entertain a sliver of hope. It had always been the wrong time for them before: Alice had been engaged for way too long, and then Jasper had been overly courteous and unwilling to take the first step… but we were older now, wiser. _Maybe they have a shot…_

"What are you drinking?"

A satin voice snaked across my ear, ghosting along my cheek.

He was directly behind me, dangerously close, and I instinctively leaned back into him. I felt his hot breath on my neck and I took a hitching gasp, unexpectedly drawing in a wave of his scent… it filled my nose and lungs and existence. I closed my eyes. He assaulted my senses, surrounded me — a _much_ more effective intoxicant than the alcohol I was sipping.

Edward moved from behind me, and I mourned the loss of his heat. If I was buzzed before, I was suddenly drunk and drowning. Electricity licked the bare skin of my arms as his eyes met mine, just inches away. My face burned bright, but the scotch in my stomach made me feel steely and firm. I released my held breath… but I didn't look away.

I touched the glass in front of me, my fingers nervously tracing its lip. His gaze took in both glasses. "Two, huh? Impressive."

"They aren't both mine." _Duh. Don't start this obvious shit again, Bella_. I got a hold of myself. "The screwdriver is for my friend. The scotch is mine." My lips and tongue felt swollen. I wondered briefly what state _his_ lips and tongue were in.

And of course, my dream chose to come back to me right then, intense and almost tangible with the subject standing directly in front of me. Desperate panting, frantic strokes of fingertips and long licks to newly exposed flesh, damp grass and salty sweat, nimble fingers dancing across my stomach but feeling them lower… a curious, hungry mouth asking for entry and gaining access…

He eyed my drink. "Straight up? Not on the rocks?" I watched his eyes follow my fingers as I caressed the smooth lip of the glass. I wanted to trace his knuckles with my fingertips, hard bumps and soft hair. His gaze then traveled higher, up past my delicate wrist, along the exposed skin of my bare arm and shoulder, and finally meeting neck, and scarlet cheek, to my waiting eyes. His glowed jade in the dim light.

"No," I managed to say, breathless. "It's much better without." I was struggling to form a coherent thought that didn't end with …_so we should get naked_.

"Well, I'll take you word for it. I've never tried it neat before." Edward held up two fingers to Eric, who understood. He was just… incredible, breathtaking, surreal. Casual cool with a fiery presence, a pocket of reality for me in this surreal place that was growing smaller by the minute.

My head spun. He comforted me and provoked at the same time.

I fought the urge to grab his tie, to fist the silky material in my hand and pull him closer and silently beg him to save me, to hold me up like in my dream, allow me to break the surface so I could steal breath from his mouth.

_Fuck_. He made me forget my stupid lie that sexual desire was "unnecessary," evidenced by my flushing skin, the burning low and hot in my stomach, and the veritable flood currently happening in my designer jeans.

I shrugged instead.

"You… should try it sometime." He nodded, still looking at the glass. My traitorous hand, who obviously didn't understand my precarious situation, suddenly pushed the drink toward him.

"Would you like a taste?"

_Wait, what?_

My brain was fuzzy, white static. The look of mild shock on his face was nothing compared to the surprise I felt. But there I stood, staring at him, practically daring him to take it.

_Did I just… ?_

The corner of his mouth turned up. That fucking crooked smile.

_Holt shit, I did._

Edward took my scotch in his hand, long fingers curling around the clear glass. His eyes held mine now - now _he_ was _daring_ me, to watch him. And fuck me, I couldn't look away if I had wanted to.

He brought the smooth glass to his mouth. The rim pressed against his full lower lip, soft flesh relenting and parting. He pulled in the liquid slowly, jaw flexing, throat working smoothly. I thought of brilliant emeralds above liquid fire. I felt phantom fire on my tongue, trickling, like venom. I relished the echoed taste in my mouth, knowing at that moment exactly what _he_ tasted like.

When he finished, he set the glass down carefully back in front of me. He licked his lips, and my scandalous tongue darted out to wet my own. I was embarrassingly exhilarated for being in the middle of a crowded bar; my nipples were hard points under my thin blouse, my pants damp and far too tight. _Turncoats_.

He pulled in air through his teeth, hissing. I clenched my own teeth as the noise went _straight_ to my poor, aching, lonely pussy.

"Oh my."

_No shit._

He coughed, and I giggled. _Oh dear Jesus I just giggled_. _Out loud._

_Oh fuck_. I had a moment of clarity through the haze. With panic, I realized that I couldn't predict my reactions now, couldn't stop my words or movements. The only distance between us was an arm's length… and that could easily be remedied…

_You don't belong here_. It was my own voice, calling out to me from the back of my mind. I clenched jaw and picked up the glass, soaking in the residual heat from his hand. I stared down at it and tried to decide what I really thought about the situation.

"That was… intense." He smiled. "But really good. Thank you."

"You're welcome," I said softly, my eyes still on my hand.

"Hey." He bent his legs and ducked down, trying to catch my gaze. Without a thought, my head naturally turned toward him. The pull was overwhelming me, threatening to manifest into words, or actions. I wanted to touch him so badly, just below where his black shirt was rolled up; the smooth tan marble of his forearm, covered in light golden hair, risen veins a topographical map over hard muscles.

Edward continued, "I wanted to congratulate you again, on today. I think -"

He was interrupted by a glass slamming down on the bar next to him, the loud crack like a gunshot. Jessica stood beside him, smirking.

"Bartender," she said obnoxiously, "I'll take a… hmmm…. How about a Sloe Comfortable Screw Against the Wall." She was wicked and blatantly obvious. "How about you, Edward? Would you care for a Sloe Comfortable Screw? Or perhaps Sex on the Beach? How about an Orgasm? I'm providing… I mean, _buying_." She cocked her head and stared directly at him. My face burned with the shame she seemed to lack.

Edward shrugged, his face calm and even, as always. "I'm sticking with my beer, thanks. Though I might be ordering a neat scotch later." He winked at me, and I managed a small strangled smile. Jessica had destroyed my high and set me right back on edge.

_You don't belong here_…

Jessica looked past Edward at me. She feigned shock, as if she didn't know I had been standing there the whole time.

"Ms. Swan!" Her voice was shrill and loud, attention-seeking. "How nice of you to come out amongst us commoners! Now, would your father approve of you being here?" I tightened my grip on my glass. She smiled and looked expectantly at Edward, obviously hoping for some kind of reaction. Edward, however, was still looking at me, watching my movements carefully. She frowned. Her eyes were hard, determined. She tried again. "So… celebrating, are we?"

"Yes, Ms. Stanley, I am." My body was tensed, my head whirling. I doubted my own words, afraid they would betray me and show vulnerability. _Not to her. No fucking way. _I could feel myself shutting down, building back up the necessary distance to keep her out. I locked away both the anger I felt building toward Jessica and my silly passion for Edward, because I couldn't separate them for the moment. Just a minute ago I had felt good, alive… now I was hollow again. Hollow and tipsy.

_I am being so stupid_.

Jessica smiled razorblades. "Well, that's great. It's so kind of you to grace us with your presence, Ms. Swan. Shall I order something for you?" Her expression was falsely kind, the offer obviously empty. "When is the last time you had a Slow Comfortable Screw, hmm?"

My smile didn't reach my eyes. "Thank you for the offer, Ms. Stanley, but I'm quite satisfied." I picked up my drinks. "Ms. Stanley, Mr. Masen, if you'll excuse me."

I turned and walked back to Alice and Jasper, head high and heart still. I didn't look at Edward again… I wasn't sure if I could handle it if she were touching him again.

_Because you don't care. Right Bella?_

"Jesus Bells, what took so long?" Jasper asked as I slipped into the seat next to him.

Alice smiled knowingly. "That's her green-eyed tech guy."

"Oooooh…" Jasper nodded. "_Very_ nice, Bells." Alice looked at him oddly. "What? I can appreciate a nice-looking man!" He shrugged. "That's a nice-looking man right there."

I shrugged and stared at my drink. I was trying to concentrate, to relax, to get back to the place I was at before… but my focus had been broken. I felt lost again. Jessica had reminded me again of how different I actually was… I had been foolish to think I could get away with blending in, even for just one night.

"Who's the slut that's trying way too hard?" Alice asked.

"_That's_ Jessica."

"Ooooh. Makes sense." Alice knew all about Jessica. "Just as classy as I pictured her." Alice took in my posture, my sullen expression. She and Jazz shared a look. This did nothing to calm me: even Jasper and Alice, who hadn't seen each other in weeks, could share an intimate moment… something which I was obviously incapable of sharing with anyone.

_Why am I here again?_ _Shit_.

I glanced to my right, and my eyes just had to lock directly on Mike Newton. He was sitting in a dark booth about twenty feet away, arms were crossed, his collar popped. He was staring at me… as was everyone else at his booth. I hadn't noticed him before, and I wondered if he'd been sitting there this whole time, and how long he'd been watching me.

"Fuck me." Alice and Jasper both jumped and looked at me in surprise. "When am I going to stop being so goddamn fascinating?" I said grumpily. I swirled my scotch in the glass, irritated. I was rapidly losing my desire to celebrate.

Alice looked wickedly at Jasper before turning to me. "You wanna really blow their minds?" She stood up and grabbed my hand, tugging me to my feet. My reactions were delayed, so I automatically followed her, confused.

After a few steps, I realized in horror that she was dragging me to dance floor.

I immediately tried to back-pedal.

"No no no. Alice, _no_!" I hissed, trying not to fight her too obviously. I had already been pulled half-way there before my clouded brain had realized what the devilish imp was doing, and we were now standing in the middle of the goddamn room. I couldn't run back to my seat now...

"Yes yes yes, Bells. C'mon! You need to move." She grabbed my other hand and continued pulling me, smiling and shaking her hips. There were quite a few people already up and dancing. Prince's _Erotic City_ was just beginning, its twangy opening notes hitting my ears.

"Alice, _Jesus_, these are my co-workers… I don't even call them by their first names… I can't _dance_ in front of them!" I was panicking now, begging her with my eyes. My famous composure was about two scotches and two shots (I think) behind me. "Please, let's just go back… We'll just keep walking to the bar…"

Jasper came up behind me. He wrapped his hands around my upper arms and steadied me.

"C'mon, Isabella Marie. Fuck 'em, remember?"

I turned my head, and was rewarded with a half-smile. Jasper wasn't pushing me forward, but rather just holding me firm, waiting for my ruling on the situation.

_Oh fuck me._

I sagged beneath his hands, and let myself get swallowed by the undulating group of bodies. Alice went straight into the middle of the crowd. She raised her hands above her head and danced enthusiastically, trying to entice me to dance with her.

The truth of the matter was that I absolutely loved to dance. I had been a dancer my entire life, and besides running there was nothing that I loved to do more than move to a rhythm. Alice knew this. _Damn her_.

Also, I happened to be a fucking excellent dancer, drunk or sober.

I felt my feet start to move tentatively and my hips swayed, slow and hesitant. My eyes darted around the room. _I've officially been_ _spotted_, I noted as heads began to turn. I shifted miserably, awkwardly.

Jasper sensed my trepidation, and before I knew it he had wrapped one arm around my waist and grasped my right hand in his left, and spun me gracelessly. Jasper was so long and lanky, and elegance wasn't his strong suit… but here he was, trying valiantly to take the attention with me instead of leaving me to twist in the wind. I hadn't realized that he had put on his top hat until right then… and he looked so serious trying to clumsily lead me in a waltz to Prince's plea to _fuck so pretty, you and me_…

In spite of myself, I laughed. I was still embarrassed, but feeling slightly less mutinous now. I surrendered, leaned into his shoulder and closed my eyes. The room spun right along with our feet, and I let Jasper lead me in our absurd dance. The skin on the back of my neck prickled, and my thoughts strayed to Edward, sitting in the shadows. I wondered if he was witnessing this spectacle, but I turned and pressed my face into Jasper's chest to avoid confirmation.

As the last note died away, Jasper gave me a kiss on my cheek and released me. The next song immediately began to bump, and he and Alice instantly gravitated toward one another. I took the opportunity to whisper in Alice's ear.

"I'm going to get one more drink and then I'm done. I'll be back." I promised her.

I ordered a water from Eric and paid my tab. Unscrewing the top, I took a long pull of the frigid liquid. I hadn't been doing a good job of hydrating tonight. I sighed.

_Goddamn it._

I had been avoiding looking in his direction, fearful of what I might see. As I screwed the top back on my bottle … I couldn't help myself. I looked in the mirror.

I was met with waiting green eyes.

Indeed, Jessica and her friends were there, and they were now sitting at Edward and Emmett's table, touching their cleavage and smacking their plumped lips. But Edward wasn't paying them any attention.

He was starting boldly at me.

No flashing looks or sideways glances, covert glances at my back. He was staring openly at me, steadily meeting my eyes in the mirror's reflection. Unapologetically. My whole body flushed…

"Hello, Isabella." _Shit, what now?_

Mike Newton stood next to me, having snuck up on me while my attention was on Edward, the bastard. He leaned backward against the bar, smirking. _Blech_.

"If I may, you look amazing tonight." His eyes traveled up and down the length of my body, hesitating briefly on the area between my stomach and neck. I suppressed a shudder. Being eye-fucked by Mike was about as pleasant as being hit with a sack of doorknobs.

"Thank you, Mr. Newton." I hatched a quick escape plan. I tried to catch Eric's attention to order another drink so I could go give it to Alice. But Eric was occupied… I had no way out.

"You finally get to see me in my going-out clothes, you lucky little girl. Pretty nice, huh? " He adjusted the pop in his collar. "You caught me on a good night, too. I happen to be here alone. Trust me, it doesn't happen often."

_Oh my god_. I gagged and braced myself on the bar. If the stupid room could stop spinning for just one minute…

But Mike wasn't done. "You are enjoying yourself after your victory today, huh?" I wasn't too drunk to detect a bitter undertone to his words.

"Yes." My eyes darted around, continuing to look for an exit strategy. Alice and Jasper were still dancing together, regretfully oblivious to my plight. I snuck a look at Mike, who was now openly appraising my chest in my purple top.

_Okay. Enough of that. _"I should be getting back to my friends."

"I saw you dancing," he said quietly. He shifted his body so he was fully facing me now, and he edged closer. His closeness was humid, stifling. He ran his eyes over my body once more. "We should dance together sometime."

Mike's clammy hand was suddenly on my lower back, rubbing, feeling like gritty sandpaper on my skin. I wanted to jerk away from his touch, but I struggled to keep my body under control, to remain calm. But his hand was repulsive and unwelcome, and I needed it gone _now, _but my reactions were sluggish…

My eyes jumped up, searching for help… and Edward was still there. Waiting, watching, ignoring the yammering females next to him and carefully watching my movements. My unexpected calm in a strange, foreign storm of smells and tastes and touches. I saw him shift forward in his seat, tensing, as if he were about to stand.

Mike's hand was damp through the thin material of my shirt, but I was with Edward. He held me with his eyes, spurring me to move.

I pushed away from the bar, backing away from Mike quickly. "Goodnight, Mr. Newton." I started to walk away, and I was shocked when he reached out and grabbed my arm.

"We could dance right now." His voice was low, confident. And he was fucking smirking at me again.

I tugged my arm away with some force. "No, we can't." The smirk slid off his face. His eyes grew tight.

"Goodnight, Mr. Newton."

By the time I had reached Alice and Jasper, I was feeling confused, drunk… and triumphant. It actually felt good to take Mike down a peg. Justin's _FutureSex/LoveSounds_ began pumping through the room, deep and thumping, and suddenly I felt like moving.

Alice saw me coming and welcomed me back with a loud, "Wooooo!" I could always tell how many drinks Alice had consumed by how dirty she danced with me. Now, she grabbed my hips and ground her pelvis against mine. _Pretty drunk._ I laughed. I was feeling pretty damn dizzy myself.

This had been quite a night, quite a day… quite an entire fucking _week_ for that matter, and I was just _so tired_ of thinking and caring…

Alice twisted away from me, and I was left gyrating by myself. I felt fucking electricity shiver down my spine… and I knew he was watching me.

I couldn't stop myself.

My hips swayed back and forth, tentatively dipping and rotating. I arched my back and spun around Alice, who was swaying precariously. Jasper grabbed her around her waist, thoughtfully steadying her. I shut my eyes and just moved. I was having a tough time thinking about anything other than the beat. The sultry melody twirled and tangoed behind my eyelids, pirouetted past my eardrums.

I slid my hand slowly across the material covering my collarbone and up along my neck, feeling my skin hum underneath my fingertips. I remembered my failed endeavor yesterday morning, and the _need_ came back full force, my body reacting: swelling, blushing, moistening. I kept moving.

I swayed briefly but caught my balance. My mind was delightfully fuzzy, a stark contrast from my usual over analysis of every situation. I shivered. Edward's existence in my life had gone from fictional to constant in a matter of five days, but my mind didn't want to dwell on how ridiculous that was right now… I just want to move for him.

I stopped thinking.

My hands skimmed over the silky material to my waist, my hips, and like that morning they were _his_ hands, large and firm, exploring and gentle. I was hypnotized by him, or maybe _I_ was hypnotizing _him_; either way, I couldn't remember when I had ever been more turned on by just a person's existence, let alone just from a look.

The music hit me from all sides, and I was sweaty and wet and swollen, throbbing, and he was watching, and I was watching him…

And then Jessica was in his lap.

Her white-clad ass rested on his thighs. Her arm snaked around his neck, clenching his shirt in her talons; the other hand sank deep into his hair. When I saw her blood red nails mixed in with his bronze locks… I stopped.

It all stopped.

Sobriety washed over me like a cold shower, and I stilled, horrified.

_Oh my god. What the HELL am I doing?_

I felt the blood rush into my face and neck. My exposed arms and shoulders were misted with fine sweat and undoubtedly scarlet as well. I looked at Alice, who was still dancing and stumbling, and at Jasper who was watching her carefully to make sure she didn't tip over.

I felt ashamed and vulnerable.

_How could I be so reckless?_

I walked to Alice and put my mouth to her ear. "I think I'm going to go home."

Alice looked at me, momentarily confused. Her eyes took a second to focus, but she took a shaky step toward the tables.

"Okay, Bells," she slurred slightly, "jus' lemme get my purse."

"No, babe." I grabbed her arm. I wanted to be alone, and I didn't want to interfere with whatever reconnection was going on with Jasper. "You don't have to go. I've just had a long day and I'm sick and drunk and tired." I looked at Jasper. "Will you make sure she gets home okay, Jazz?"

"Of course I will, Bells, but what about you? We can't let you go home by yourself…"

I pretended like I was more sober than I was, because I didn't want Jazz to insist on seeing me home. "I'm okay, really. I'm going to catch a cab right outside and go straight home." I was drunk and jittery. My nerves were frayed, and I was suddenly incredibly exhausted. I lowered my voice slightly. "You two are having a good time; stay, okay?" He frowned and looked at me. I touched his arm. "I promise I'll be okay. I'm going straight home."

He relented. "Okay. Straight home, got it?"

I nodded, anxious to leave. Beyond anxious. I kissed Alice, who was smiling and looking dazed. I gave Jasper a big hug, whispering thank you and congrats and promising to see him soon. I strode over to the table and grabbed my purse, keeping my eyes fixed straight ahead and down. I heard Jessica's stupid laugh again and I sped up my exit. She was having a great time.

_Good for her._

Panic bubbled in my throat and spilled red onto my skin. I had to get out. Now. I didn't want to think about how I had just behaved, or how I could feel Edward's eyes on me now.

_I was just dancing. I wasn't dancing for him. Just dancing._

I tossed one last hasty wave over my shoulder to Jasper and Alice, and not fast enough I was pulling the door open and stepping into still darkness. I took a deep breath, pulling the fresh night into my lungs. As luck would have it, there was a yellow and black taxicab idling on the corner right in front of me, and I lunged for it.

The taxi door shut too loudly, and I cringed. Through heavy lids I took one last look at the door, and in my blurred vision I saw colors dance before me: neon blue and lonely black, crazy, impossible bronze and worried green.

_This was a mistake._

I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed my forehead against the cool glass.

* * *

**Poor Bella! One step forward, two steps back. **

**I want to apologize for my last chapter… FF was having that massive meltdown, and not only did some people not get the chapter alert, _and_ not only did I miss a TON of reviews (but I reeeally hope I still got everyone), but FF didn't save my final edits and the chapter went up with typos. Booooo. I apologize for that, Readers. You deserve better, and I aim to please. **

**DB was reviewed on The Fictionators! AGH! I feel like I won the lotto. ****http://www (dot) fictionators (dot) ****Nicki and Caren are incredibly kind, smart, funny women, and I'm honored that they did this for me. Thank you again, loves! 3**

**DB was also rec'd on another fuck-awesome blog: ****http://www (dot) fornicationstation (dot) blogspot (dot) com****. They made a KICK-ASS banner and wrote a super kind review… thank you to ****miztrezboo**** and ****Nostalgicmiss****!**

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**Thank you to every last one of you who have read, story alerted, and/or reviewed. Over a hundred reviews… holy shit. Love love love you all. 3**

**-ahealthyaddiciton**

**(btw: Purple1983, I couldn't review reply and you don't get PMs… but thank you for the review!)**


	7. Chapter 6

**My beta Dawn is the BEST. Hands down. I'm a lucky lady. **

* * *

_Bella._

Saturday morning greeted me with an indifferent blast of frigid air across my bare shoulders. The rain tapped a monotonous cadence against my window, and the world was bathed in grey: washed-out, flat. Wilted. My mouth was stale and my hair was plastered to my forehead, stiff from sweat and a fitful night.

But I was only vaguely aware of these things.

I had awoken from superficial sleep hours ago, yet to move a single muscle and unsure if I even could, with effort. I was prone on my back, legs motionless and flat on the bed, arms tucked limply at my side. I knew I was awake because my eyes blinked open and closed with soft clicks, staring at but not truly seeing the ceiling. My chest rose and fell with each shallow breath, soft sheets rasping against my skin with each inhalation. I presumed that hot blood pumped through my veins and fed the numb limbs that I couldn't guarantee were properly attached.

Laying and breathing, blinking and, for once, _not_ thinking. Consciousness filled with soft static: like a movie on an old projection machine, the reel was continuing to spin empty frames and project black scratches on a white screen. The gentle _flap, flap, flap_ of the film endlessly spinning in the projector, over and over and over…

Anytime a flicker of remembered color or sound or taste threatened to solidify into an actual memory or feeling, something inside swiftly stifled it and mechanically swept it away, snuffed out before it could manifest into anything that could remind, or elicit, or hurt. I was left to mercifully just… float.

Distantly, it occurred to me that a normal person might be scared, or at least mildly concerned about the fact that she hadn't had a single thought of substance for a good three hours now.

But not me.

If I'd been thinking about… well, anything at that moment, I might have reasoned that perhaps my over-stimulated brain couldn't process all of the information that I had been subjected to over the previous five days. My head needed a short respite, and a mild state of shock was just the ticket. This wasn't the first time I had been like this. In fact, it used to happen when I was much younger, more vulnerable, less hardened; mostly after I hadn't seen my mother or father for a few days, and always when I was alone.

However, in my current state of mentally-induced detachment… I realized that I wasn't alone this time. If last night had reminded me of anything, it was that the militant, deadened, cold Isabella was still there – she was always there, with me. On this cold, wet morning, I pictured her sitting in my old rocking chair in the far corner of my room, arms propped with tented fingers, watching my immobile figure. Waiting for me to crack… because we both knew that this blankness was temporary, the calm fleeting. The Bella in my bed, however, was content to simply lay in willful ignorance and enjoy this calm suspension of reality.

The truth was, nothing was easy, nothing was unfettered, and _nothing_ was done without consequence. Hard truths were how I lived my life.

_Too much,_ the quiet phrase was softly spoken in my head. _Too much in just a week. And then last night… _I hitched in a ragged breath, and felt something spark in my chest; an infinitesimal flare of heat, just enough to make me nervous.

I imaged Isabella rocking forward in anticipation, steel brown gaze and scowling like her father. I screwed my eyes up tight, trying to ignore the blooming anxiety...

But _fuck_, it was too late. It was starting.

Images began to take shape, vague at first; whispers of thin smoke and wisps of fuzzy hues and muted sounds… but they built slowly, pieces sliding into place, random objects materializing into shapes with definite lines, forming unwelcome memories…

_Emmett was enormous as he was kind, his gestures sweet and futile. Charlie spoke dull grey words at me; no fire or comfort, just distance and regret. Jessica's voice was blackness, cruel red nails tapping on a smooth bar. Thumping music resonating in my whirling head as I leaned into Jasper's dry heat and we spun, spun around. Alice's brilliant smile and small frame, rhythmically shuffling, drunkenly gyrating next to me… _

Water beaded off my window, rivulets of cold liquid cutting lines in the outside world. I rotated my gaze to the glass, took in the bleak morning sky as my fingers twitched to life and rubbed small, random lines in the slick sheets. Stupid fucking Isabella, meanwhile, leaned back, her grimace vaguely satisfied while I began to pant, hands digging deeper into the covers. I tried to brace myself against the living, moving fragments flickering behind my eyelids.

_Okay, I remember now. All of it. Happy, you bitch? It was dumb, so fucking dumb. No more, okay?_ I was begging wordlessly, to no one, to everyone and everything. I drew in a deep breath, trying bleakly to find the still silence again…

But of course, it wasn't over. There was more.

_Scotch burning my tongue. Wet pink lips sipping liquid fire. Green lightening and thick arms, low voice purring deep and pure sex…the smell of smoky leather and heat and man, a predator hypnotizing me from the cover of dim lights... _

"_Good." _

A single word, bringing me to the brink. Looking out over the loneliness, over my iron walls and seeing him stand there… fuck, just the _idea_ of him, his theoretical existence offering me a way out, an escape from this prison that _I didn't even know_ I was fucking trapped in until a few days ago…

_Edward._

Without further pretense, I was fucking overcome.

Pain and light and silver fire filling me, burning, threatening to burst out of my chest. I shut my eyes and whimpered softly into my empty room.

Sadness. Anger. _And sweet merciful fuck_… hot, throbbing, aching lust.

It all echoed in my head, my stomach so full of lead and acid that I could almost feel my skin stretch and tear… My body was just not big enough to handle… this…

I swallowed a strangled gasp as the rational side of me struggled, frantically clawed at sloped walls and willed my heart to slow… but I knew from experience that I was too far gone at this point. I hadn't had a panic attack in such a long time…

_Oh god_. It was everything that I denied myself, that I had convinced myself that I _couldn't_ have… because I was born different and I fucking knew it. I _had_ to have been… That pathetic knowledge — that I was unhappy because it was my birthright — was how I got through my lonely empty days living with Charlie and living without Renee…

_Him. Him. Him. _I couldn't breathe, I could only think_._

_Too much, too fast..._ With strained effort, my chest finally heaved once and I drew in sharp, cold air, countering with hot exhalation.

_Something about him… He calms me with his presence and drives me to near insanity with his absence… and I don't know what to fucking do about it…_

Last night was cruel. As awkward and resistant as I had been to the whole adventure, I had let myself believe that maybe… I was wrong. Maybe I wasn't inherently different than everyone else. Maybe I was capable of… _that_. Worthy of time. Worthy of… friendship. Happiness.

But no. _Isabella_ wouldn't let that happen.

Unlike me, normal people could go out to a bar with her two best friends without having a meltdown and practically sprint out into the night. Normal people had a life outside of work, one that didn't involve running oneself to bloodied feet. They also usually had two parents who adored their children unconditionally; a mother who didn't choose another man's daughter over her own, and a father who loved his child _always_ and not just when she did something extraordinarily, like a trick pony, or a dancing bear. Parents who taught their children how to care, and how to express affection and feel worthy of reciprocation.

Normal people could trust. Normal people could love, and believed that they could be loved in return.

I had, and was, none of those things.

_And the difference? The fucking difference from last week to this shitty grey morning?_

I cared now. I had let myself feel, and think, and look around, _really_ look around… and my eyes had opened and I had realized I was alone. I had a good job and impeccable work ethic, a place to sleep and a best friend… but other than Alice, I didn't have anyone to love me… not like that.

_I don't have _him_. _

My internal monologue barreled on._ And for some insane, pathetic reason… I want him. Him, a stranger, so fucking badly that I act like a buffoon in public and even my dreams are painted with streaks of jade green and copper…_

Another rush of emotions hit me then, knocking the wind out of my lungs. I grit my teeth and mentally shoved at the thoughts of him, and his jaw, his granite body and perfect fucking crooked smile out of my mind…

_Not him. No. I can't do this… _I thought desperately_._ Last night was the final straw, the last of what I could take…

It felt like I was standing in ruins, atop heaping rubble of jewel-toned steel and razor-sharp disarray, frayed wires showering sparks and shattered glass. My life, wreckage at my feet, devastated by some natural disaster… or force of nature. Or sheer will. And now, _again_, I had to pick through the debris, to assemble the bits and pieces of my stupid, empty life and try to assemble a functional human being… I had to. I had no choice.

But goddammit, I could only deal with so much at one time.

This right here wasn't my normal bullshit: denying that anything was happening, convincing myself that I could somehow _will_ my humanity away. Something was obviously fucking happening all right. But I needed to think. I needed to figure out _what_ the fuck was happening to me… and I couldn't deal with him at the same time. I couldn't.

Lying in my bed, with my eyes dry and my body shuddering uncontrollably, I was acutely aware this was really happening to me; that I was already irrevocably… different.

Isabella leaned back and smiled, satisfied, as she did only when Bella was being punished.

I drew in a deep breath and managed to hold it. I steadied my hands, flexed my toes under my covers. I needed to calm down, and this lonely bed wasn't helping me achieve that end.

Without thinking, I hastily forced my legs out from under the warm blanket and into the chilly air, groaning at the pin prinks of buzzing heat that stabbed my limbs. My brain and my churning stomach begged me to stay in bed, or at least in the warm house… but I needed to focus. To feel something familiar. Something I knew.

I needed to burn, to ache by methods of my own choosing and not the way he ignited me.

I had begun to calm down by the time I poked my head into Alice's bedroom. She was lying on top of her covers, purple-clad legs askew and eyes smudged heavy black — a tiny, sleeping masked bandit. I tiptoed over and covered her small frame with her blanket. She moaned softly and snuggled her face into her pillow, and I smoothed spiky hair off her clammy forehead. _Poor baby_.

There was a folded note on the kitchen table, and I recognized Jasper's loopy, scrolling penmanship. It was addressed to me.

_Bells – _

_I had a fuck-awesome time with you guys last night!_

_I checked to make sure that you were here when I brought Ali home. As you are aware, you were. You have hopefully taken a shower by now, BTW. You were disgusting. _

_Alice is probably going to be hurting tomorrow, I'm afraid. There was more drinking after you left… I'll spare you the gory details, but FYI: if you need me tomorrow, I'll be having my car detailed, as I think the smell of vodka and the little bits of bar pretzels and whatever else she had consumed will only be able to come out of my car upholstery by professional hands. (Alice, if by some miracle you wake up and you happen to read this first… even your puke is adorable. No worries.)_

_Isabella Marie Swan. Do not: I repeat, __do not__ beat yourself up about last night. Having a good time once in a while is perfectly, okay? Okay?? Damn right. _

_Well, now that's settled: Same time, same place next Friday? (I'm wiggling my eyebrows right now, you just can't see me.)_

_With my warmest regards,  
Jazz_

I rubbed at the scrolling words with my thumb. Now that I was physically mobile and my heart had slowed from hummingbird- to human-speed, last night's events were clear and still bewildering. In spite of everything that had and would result from the outing — the disgrace, the self-loathing and the bitter humiliation that was sure to find me on Monday — it _had_ been nice hanging out with Jazz, watching him tap his top hat with long fingers and spinning with him on a crowded dance floor. And I had loved seeing Alice let loose, giggling and throwing back drinks with fireworks in her eyes as she commanded me to enjoy myself.

And I hated, _hated_ myself for liking it.

_Stop. _I shook my head, pulling myself away from my recollections and trying to stave off another bought of near-hysteria. _Good Saturday so far. I had a panic attack for the first time in years, and I'm a fucking train-wreck right now. _I swallowed acidic laughter, as I saw absolutely no humor in my current situation.

Before I left, I spread out Alice's favorite after-drinking meal on the table: Frosted Blueberry Poptarts and a spicy Bloody Mary.

I was running before I hit the sidewalk.

The rain soaked through my clothes almost instantly. My muscles sang sonatas and my feet kicked water and dirt and pavement as I cut though the downpour; my thoughts were jagged and broken pieces rattling between my ears. The past week had chipped away bits of me that had been locked in place for years, and now they bounced around to the rhythm of my pace.

Images from the past week flashed more steadily now: Burning scotch in my throat and a pair of tall, dark brothers. Emmett's thick fist and Mike's cheap cologne. My own wide eyes reflected in a silver elevator door, and the sunlight reflecting off the Seattle skyline on an unseasonably warm Friday.

But then, abruptly, it was thick thighs. The subtle definition of sloping pectoral muscles under a black dress shirt. Long lashes framing bottomless fucking green eyes, and fingers that attacked copper mess, each of which I wanted to taste one by one.

_Fuck me._ I bit back ragged frustration. _Don't I have _anything_ else going on in my life? _

Now feeling like I had something to prove, I willed my thoughts to settle on the first subject that popped into my head: the subtle non-offer from the Cullens. I didn't really want to dwell on that subject either, but at least it didn't make me want to faint or cry or fuck it.

I decided that I resented the entire Cullen situation. Nothing had even been officially offered to me, but the seeds were planted and had taken root in the shadows of my mind. And pathetically… it was Carlisle's faith in me that I appreciated; more than I could express, more than I could really even understand. It was pitiful. As my heels pounded into the ground, it was all laid out before me: the Cullen Corporation represented peace and praise, warm opportunity and with no obvious strings…

But I knew I was bound to Swan Consulting, and all of its glorious shit. I was stuck.

_And it's not goddamn fair. _

I reached up and tugged on my ponytail, needing to touch something corporeal and attached to me. It was like I was gradually waking up from deep slumber, eyelids heavy and still laden with sleep, discombobulated and dream-confused…

_I could call Charlie._

My feet skidded to an abrupt stop. Cold water cut rivers down my bent spine.

_Charlie? Am I fucking serious_?

I placed my hands on my knees and squeezed my eyelids together. _Jesus, I wouldn't even know if he has the same number... which in itself is pretty fucked up._

Contacting my father was _not_ an option, and it hadn't been for years. For what purpose, exactly? Support? Commiseration? Masochism, more like it.

It's a difficult thing, accepting that your father doesn't really love you. The part of me that still cared about him had been locked away long ago, a nerve deadened by distance and time. _Now I want to _call_ him? Out of the blue?_ A call would be undoubtedly unwelcome. Futile.

_Then maybe I could call Renee. _

I actually threw my hands up in the air, tipping my head back to the grey sky. Water ran down my cheeks like tears, plugging my ears. I laughed bitterly.

_Are you kidding me?_ _Jesus fucking Christ, Isabella. _

I hadn't spoken to Renee in over two years, and that conversation had been brief, one-sided, useless. The postcards had stopped coming shortly after that, as well… not long after the wedding invitation had arrived, and I let my silence serve as my RSVP. Declines with regret. She had finally stopped trying after that, and I told myself that I was grateful.

As I stood in the pouring rain, with my arms hanging limply at my side and a painful smile cutting across my face, I considered for a moment that I _was_ actually, truly losing my grip on reality. In just one short week, I had gone from being able to control every thought, bottle every emotion and remain a fucking professional, to having crazy, hurtful, impossible thoughts bombard me every two seconds and being driven to panic over a beautiful stranger. It was fucking frustrating.

I couldn't call Charlie. I couldn't call Renee. I couldn't have friends in the office and I sure as hell couldn't have Edward fucking Masen.

I held my breath.

_I will not cry. _No way. Not over this_. I will not. Fucking. Cry… _

I silently whimpered, pleading for escape, salvation from the slow horror I could feel creeping steadily back into my throat.

Since running wasn't cutting it for me anymore, I needed to find another distraction, something different to find reprieve. I certainly had some healthy options: I could go home and crawl into bed with Alice, snuggle next to her and drink our Saturday away. I could call Jasper and we could go to lunch, perhaps to the zoo in the rain and people watch at the bus station… anything, really. I could call Angela and ask her to meet me for drinks. I could dance or sing, paint my room or bake muffins or just fucking love myself and _stop. doing. this…_

I had no idea how far I had run, or for how long. I didn't care. I turned and ran hard home.

The sky wept. I did not.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Nineteen floors up, the Seattle skyline in front of me matched my mood: subdued, somber, lonely.

I sipped a cup of Earl Grey and allowed myself one brief flash of warmth, one tug in my stomach from remembered thoughtfulness, sweet dancing and velvet words… but then it was back to work. I had found my numbness, to a certain extent, my familiarity. It was pathetically comforting to know I still had _something_ that could dull the ache and make me forget how messed up I really was, if only for a moment.

I sat alone, and worked, because I had nowhere else to go.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I didn't see Alice until Sunday evening. She was on the phone when I walked in the door, and she quickly hung up when I entered our living room.

"Bella! Where in the holy fuck have you been?"

"Working." I sat down heavily on the couch and rubbed my eyes.

Alice sat down next to me, curling her legs under her long gauzy skirt. "Seriously? Did you really have to go in all weekend?"

I nodded, my fist still assaulting my closed eyes. "I have a lot to do, Ali. I had to make some calls, had to do some filing I'd been putting off, had to -"

"- hide."

My teeth snapped together, her gentle observation knocking my words clean out of my mouth. Her face was calm as she watched my jaw work.

"- work." I finished cooly. Our silence was wary, prickling with gentle tension. I sighed. "Look, I had a really intense week, and Friday night was just… a lot to handle. I needed to focus for a little bit, so I went to work. That's all." I hoped it would be enough to settle the subject. What I wasn't prepared for was the sweet sadness that clouded her brown eyes.

Alice asked me softly, "Didn't you have a good time on Friday?"

"Babe, I…" She looked so damn distressed, and I felt awful. I bit my lip and tugged at my bangs. "Of course I did. I loved seeing you and Jasper. But… it was a lot. For me. I'm not… I don't think I can do that again."

"But it will be easier next time," she insisted. "Jasper and I have already talked about it. Next Friday…"

I shook my head. "I can't promise anything. I might be really busy next Friday…" I let my voice trail away, because my words were pointless. She wasn't buying what I was trying to sell her, so I simply shook my head. "I had enough fun this weekend to last me a while, Ali."

Her silence was contemplative, pregnant with unspoken opinion. I waited, and inevitably she pressed on.

"But were you _happy_ this weekend, Bells? Did going in to work make you happy?"

"I can be happy later." I sounded a bit short, but my patience was wearing thin as my lacquered exterior. "But now…" I sighed. "Now I just need to work, and get through whatever is happening to me."

Our eyes were locked together, her gaze shifting back and forth between my pleading, tired eyes. The sad look on her face hurt me… but I didn't have it in me to dwell on anything right now.

"How are you feeling?"

I almost giggled as I shrugged, glad that the conversation seemed to be turning. "Fine. Exhausted. Uptight." I smiled weakly. "The usual."

"Mmm hmm." Her brown eyes were soulful and dynamic, melted brown sugar and cinnamon. "How are you _feeling_?" she asked again.

I felt my defensives automatically rise, but I chuckled at her, still futilely hoping I could divert her attention. "Well, I'm better than Jasper's leather interior, I can tell you that much." I looked anywhere but at the ball of energy sitting at my side. _Leave it alone, you evil nymph._

"But Bella…" _She is not going to let this go. _

"Alice, I'm sorry, okay?" I rubbed my temples. "I don't mean to sound so harsh, but I am _finally_ exhausted to the point of not beating myself up every two minutes and I don't want to get all worked up again. I'm tired and I need for you to please, _please_ give me a break here. I didn't mean to be gone all weekend, I had so much to do -"

She nodded again. Her eyes were wide and always expressive. "I know."

I looked over at her and raised an eyebrow. "_You know_?"

She nodded. "Yes."

I waited. "Well?" Alice remained silent. I rolled my eyes. "I know there's more. Out with it."

Alice's face was serene, sweet. Patient. "You were punishing yourself."

I hunched forward, the muscles in my shoulders tensing. "Punishing myself?" I looked at my hands, which were twisting in my lap, and laughed a mirthless chuckle. I felt shaken and exposed. "Why on earth would I do that?"

"Because," she said plainly, "You were angry at yourself for having a good time Friday night. You were smiling and laughing and dancing and really impressing the fuck out of Jazz and I… but then I think something happened — which I really hope you fucking get around to telling me about at some point — and then you needed to go re-convince yourself that you don't _deserve_ to be happy like that. You got scared. So you ran." Her tone was mater-of-fact, simply stating facts… and it almost made the situation sadder. I had no defense.

"Your runs aren't working anymore, are they?"

_She is blowing my fucking mind right now._ "What do you mean?"

"After your epic sprints, you used to come home… blank. You eyes would be vacant and your voice empty, like you left pieces of yourself along your route. But you're not empty right now, are you? You're agitated, almost jumpy... You can't stop feeling." I narrowed my eyes at the ceiling. "Bella, that's a good thing! Don't you get it? It's painful because it's real, and it's something that your body and mind and heart want so badly… to feel, and touch…" Her fingernails dug into the soft flesh on my shoulder with every emphatic shake. "You were fucking awesome on Friday! You were totally funny with that Clydesdale of a man who bought us the shots…" She smirked and nudged me with her elbow. "Plus, I watched you at the bar when you went to go get drinks, when that hot computer nerd was…"

"No," I practically growled. Her eyes went wide with surprise. I vehemently shook my head.

"No. Please, just… don't talk about him." I pressed the heel of my hands into my eyebrows. "I just… I can't. There has been so much… I just don't think…" _Fuck!_ I couldn't find the words. I could only look at her, and her expression held such deep concern that it made my heart hurt. "I can't deal with him right now, too."

"Listen to me." Alice's voice was more subdued than before; I could tell she was trying to back down a bit before I could completely shut down on her. She reached out and took one of my hands, clasping it in both of hers. "I know this is hard for you. I can see it. But Bella…" Her tiny grasp tightened. "You can't keep hiding. You can't keep running. And you have to deal with _all_ of it."

I felt a swell of love for my Alice. She always validated me, no matter how silly or unreasonable I knew I was being. _She is destined for sainthood._

"I don't know what else to do." I absolutely hated how broken my voice sounded. However, with Alice, I never had any other option but to tell her the truth. "I don't know how to do… anything, anymore. Except work. And run. And be awkward."

"Sweetie," Alice laughed, "you just need to be_ you_, you silly, beautiful nut job. You need to feel what comes, and participate in your surroundings. Stop sprinting through the day and look, really look… You need to _live_ life, not just survive it."

_It's just that simple_.

"I don't know how." I repeated, my voice shamefully small. "God, I sound like such a fucking idiot, Alice, but… I don't know how to be normal. Love… shit, I don't even know what love even _looks_ like! I never learned. My… my life… I just never learned how. They never taught me..." _Fuck me, and now I'm babbling. I'm so. fucking. weak._

But Alice, my wonderful Alice… she understood, and shook her head.

"That's horseshit. Isabella, I know how tough it was for you… with your Mom and Dad. I know what happened, and how you grew up… how it was between you guys. But Bella… you're wrong. You _do_ know how to love." She ignored the pessimism that was practically seeping out of my pores.

"Do you love me?"

"Of course I do."

"And do you love Jasper?"

I briefly considered my answer. "…Yes." I really did.

"And you _did_ have fun the other night, correct?"

"Alice… ah, fuck. Yes. I did," I relented.

Her smile was self-satisfied. "I've been waiting for this, Bella. Waiting for you to wake up. It took you fucking long enough… but I think there is hope for you yet." Her smile was endearing and infuriating, just like her. "And I figured it would be a messy process, but Jesus Christ, woman. You look like shit." We both laughed, and my heart felt lighter. "Have you been sleeping?"

I shrugged. "Not well, to be honest. I have been… (_scared to dream) …_stressed out, I suppose."

Alice's fingers lightly traced my cheek, and I turned to my head to meet her dancing eyes, all sweet spices and adoration. "You _can_ do the things you want, Bella Swan. But you have to _let them happen_. You have to work with your life, and not against it."

As much as I hated that she sounded like a self-help novel… She was right. I wasn't my father, and I sure as hell wasn't my mother. Like my best friend had said: I was Bella goddamn Swan, and I had to be _open_ to what was happening to me... I didn't have a choice, really. Or I might very well go insane.

"And this guy, Edward, he's obviously part of this, too…"

Except for that.

"I said no." My voice was hard again, and while I truly felt bad with how quickly her eyes darkened, but this was non-negotiable. "Not him. I'm serious." My breathing was already picking up, and I could feel my heart beginning to race. "I'm not ready for him."

Her lilting voice went silent. She let go of my hand, and my skin was pebbled where her warmth was now mssing. She stood with her back to me, and I had to strain to hear her.

"Bella…" Her shoulders rose and fell once, as if she had heaved a great sigh. "You are going to have to trust someone other than me. Soon. And personally, I think it's going to be him."

Alice's intuition was usually so spot on and her foresight so uncanny that I knew it would take a great deal of convincing to make her see that she was wrong about this… but she didn't even have to turn around to see my mouth open; she simply held up her hand. I stayed silent.

"Never mind, you stubborn mule. I'm done. I don't want to argue with you. I just want you to know that I love you, and I want you to be happy. That's all."

I wished I could cry, to show my dearest friend that her words _did_ affect me, that I heard her and valued her psychic predictions and irrational opinions... but I couldn't do that. Instead, I sat there, dry and cold, willing her to just read my mind and know how I felt about her.

"Are you hungry?"

I leaned my head back on the sofa, shut my eyes. I was drained, exhausted, half-crazed… but I felt just a little better.

"I'm starving."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

_Monday._

I found myself staring at the exact same reflection I had faced exactly one week prior. Eyes wide, hair knotted tight behind my head, fingers drifting aimlessly over starched cotton and tweed.

_Maybe no one even remembers I was there on Friday,_ I told myself. _Everyone was drinking and talking and dancing… I bet no one was even watching me at that point. _

My stomach flipped and flopped, and my paler-than-normal likeness shook her head with me.

Sure. _And Jasper is vanilla, and Alice isn't excitable. _

_I'm screwed._

The door slid open and my navy blue heels lead the way into the lion's den. Due to a terribly timed traffic delay I wasn't as early as I normally was, so there were actual bodies lining the path to my desk. Bodies with staring eyes and hushed whispers.

I took a deep breath. Not even risking a glance in Angela's direction, I walked straight to my corner, heeding no anyone else in the room. I kept my head high, eyes fixed on the smooth mahogany. _Mike is here already, _I noticed._ Of course_. I accidently took in his hard glare, which was positively murderous. _Steady, Swan_.

I saw sweeping movement from the right, and I automatically turned my head to see Emmett enthusiastically waving at me with his tree branch of an arm. I felt a light spray of sweat mist my forehead. _Oh sweet jesus._ My cheeks burned crimson and my head had swiveled forward again before the bronze mop next to him could finish turning my way.

I couldn't see him now. Couldn't even _think_ about him now… _I just have to get through today_.

I tried to think of Alice, her gentle encouragement and faith in my ability to function like a human being. I wanted _so badly_ to stay positive, to wrap her ever-present hope around me and wear it like armor… but I also knew that I was teetering right on the precipice of reason and insanity, and I feared that his beautiful, irrational, electric hold on me would push me over the edge…

I kept my eyes down, and tried to pretend like couldn't feel the murmurs around me and I wasn't the laughing stock of the office.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

My morning was lost to long, torturous phone conversations. I had been concentrating on the Cullens for a week solid, and I needed to touch bases with my other clients. That, and I needed to keep my hands busy, as my fingers were inclined to attack my poor, unassuming bangs… or perhaps to lunge and sink into bronze curls, a terrifyingly real possibility when Edward had dared to walk by my desk and give me a small smile.

I carved a wooden smile as I made small talk.

"Mr. Stephens, that is hilarious!" I trilled, wincing at my own saccharine tone. _Blech_. "Well sir, I will be sure to get those estimates to you within the next two days. No no, please, let me take care of it, I insist."

I heard footsteps approach my desk. For a brief moment I actually hoped for Mike; I needed a good reminder of why I wasn't speaking to anyone. My smile unnaturally wide, I pushed out, "I look forward to seeing you next week. Goodbye, sir,"

Reluctantly hanging up the phone, I took a deep breath and looked up, expecting to see powder blue eyes and gelled blonde hair.

I was more than a little surprised to see that it was Charlie Swan standing at my desk.

My spine went rigid. "Mr. Swan?" Charlie almost never visited me at my desk._ What the fuck is wrong? _Slight alarm stung my throat."Is there something I can help you with?"

"Yes, Bella. There is." I narrowed my eyes, confused. Charlie leaned over, his knuckles resting on my desk and partially closing the gap between us. His stance was oddly intimate, and his tone gruff, dusty sawdust.

"I wanted to speak with you about your conduct as of late."

_My conduct?_ Icy panic dribbled down my spine and my stomach clenched terribly, but my mask stayed solid. I never flinched. I cleared my throat to avoid gasping.

"I'm sure I don't understand what you mean, Mr. Swan."

He squinted down at me, scrutinizing my calm demeanor. I sat straight and marble, but underneath my thin façade, I was quaking.

"I have been informed that you were… fraternizing the other night, and drew a bit of attention to yourself."

My mouth twitched. I forced my jaw to remain clamped tight, but I couldn't help the involuntary query that slipped out from between my thinned lips.

"By whom?"

He ignored my question. "Be careful, Bella. You are an employee of this company, and a very visible one that that. I expect you to act appropriately."

Anger flared bright red in my chest and burned my face, betraying my faux chill. I was too pissed to care.

"Do you lecture all of your employees about their private lives, Mr. Swan? Or just me?" I struggled to keep my voice even.

His stony stare never wavered. "Only those whose antics have the ability to embarrass the good name of this company."

My chest tightened. _How dare you._ Bitter resentment flooded my teeth. I could have spat acid. A face flashed before my eyes: young and free, unlined and kind. I could hardly see the resemblance to the man before me now, who was questioning the very ethics that he taught me.

"Please don't worry about your company's reputation. Or your good name. They are both quite safe, I assure you." I hesitated. "You should know that." I hated that the falter in my hushed words.

The space between us was deafening. Brown stares battled, daring the other one to say something real.

Without another word, Charlie Swan turned and walked away.

I looked around the room, feeling exposed. The dissonance was deafening. My brain went into auto-pilot; I picked up the phone and sank into myself, thinking about nothing but the ringing in my ear.

"Hello, Ms. Thomas?" I made myself smile. People could hear a smile in your voice. Angling my body toward the expansive window, I shut my eyes tightly, as if I could will the rest of the world away.

"This is Isabella Swan… yes ma'am, I've been just great, thank you. I was calling to see if I can do anything to make today easier for you..."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Beneath my desk, I stretched my sore legs. This had been the longest Monday in the history of Mondays, and I had spent it speaking in a false voice and ignoring pointed stares and whispers. I was anxious to get home and go for a run… but maybe I would ask Alice to come with me. I wanted human contact, _needed_ company to remind me that I myself was warm and malleable, not made from corporate-pressed plastic.

_I want a hug, dammit._ I rolled my eyes. _Fuck. What am I, eight years old? _

As I stood and gathered my purse and coat, I realized that it was past 6pm and I was once again alone in the bullpen. _I think I my internal clock is busted. I lose track of time_ _so easily now… _I felt like I had been living in this office for the last week solid.

I stood before the elevator doors, reaching out to press the button leading to my escape… My hand froze the moment I saw Edward emerge from the backlit doorway of the server room.

I had successfully avoided interacting with him all day. I was busy struggling to contain the simmering humiliation from the other night, and my run-in with Charlie had left me tired and defeated. I shouldn't face Edward now — my defenses were weakened, my wall cracked and sagging. I obviously aware that I would have to speak with him eventually, but today just wasn't a good day: I was focusing on what Alice had said, trying not to plan, or over-analyze… just making it through…

_What does all that that even _mean_, Bella?_

I shook my head. _Not now, Rational Thoughts. No time for you right now._

I stood, frozen in place, wondering if I could wish myself invisible…

Green eyes stole my breath.

As gravity itself seemed to dictate, Edward approached me with long, slow strides. His grin was undemanding and stunning, totally at odds with my churning insides. He stopped in front of me, the lobby quiet and dark around us. The air snapped and my face grew predictably hot.

"So I ended up ordering a neat scotch on Friday night," his voice was low, effortlessly seductive and smiling, "and I believe I owe my rough Saturday morning to you."

I couldn't meet his eyes… but lower was no less distracting: his green shirt was unbuttoned, revealing a few precious inches of pale skin. I could see a soft patch of hair peeking out, lying atop hard collarbone. My fingers twitched.

"I am sorry to hear that, Mr. Masen," I said to his chest. My voice sounded far-away, even in my own ears. I tried to look purposeful as I smoothed the grey peacoat that was folded over my arm, hoping that I was effectively hiding the trembling in my limbs.

_Please just walk away, Edward. Please let me go… let me run…_

But he remained standing there, only a few feet from me, holding me tight with charged silence. I could feel his eyes burning into the side of my face and I stubbornly fought the urge to seek them, to absorb the warm comfort he gave me and to thrill at the energy he fed me…

"Is everything alright, Ms. Swan?"

His voice was sweet, like honey, and I tasted it on my lips. My eyes whipped up to his, taking no heed of my determination to remain distant. He was watching me so carefully… and just like that, I was caught. His.

_Oh no._

I felt something splintering inside of me. Words gurgled from deep within, rushed up my throat, caught in my lips… I opened my mouth, closed it. Clutched my coat in shaking hands.

I wanted him.

Just… god, just _him_. To feel his smooth skin, his insane hair, to hear the buttons of his shirt pop under my fingers and feel his warm arms encircle me, support my weight… I wanted everything. Every stupid feeling and instinct that I had tried to deny toward him today came rushing in, filled my head and heart. My breathing sped, my heart sputtered.

He must have noticed, because a look of mild concern crossed his beautiful features, and I regretted the fact that I had caused the unease marring his marble features. Cheekbones like his… eyes and lips and long straight nose… they should never look anything but serene, peaceful, flawless. I ruined his perfection with my confusing existence, where he brightened mine. It wasn't right.

"No. Yes. I..." I stuttered, horrified that I was actually making sounds. My wide eyes flittered back and forth between his, frantically, too quickly. I was completely humiliated that this was happening, that I could feel myself beginning to spin and fall down, right in front of him, in the lobby of my father's company…

But there was no censoring myself with him. My body simply wouldn't let me.

"I don't know if I'm okay." My whisper was barely audible, but he heard me. Of course he did. His eyes penetrated mine, searching. Seeking. His smooth forehead was furrowed with worry; I wanted desperately to smooth the lines with my fingertips.

"What? What's wrong?" His body twitched toward me, but he stopped. A part of me hoped he was fighting even a fraction of the same war I was.

"I don't know," I repeated. My voice was quiet, strained. "This is… just very… hard for me."

"You can tell me." His tone was urgent, laced with sweet concern. I flinched at his words. The creases in his forehead deepened, and his hand twitched before pressing flat into his thigh. "Please."

_How?_ How could I vocalize pure energy? Panic-inducing need? Electricity so intense that I forgot who and what I truly was when he was near me? That I wanted him to release me, to let me go back to being hollow again… but at the same time I was dreading the time when he will do just that? How could I spin words to properly explain this confusing, impossible, undeniable… _thing_ that was happening between us?

_It's _not_ happening between "us." It's only happening to _you_, dummy_. I thought miserably._ Because you're acting like a crazy person over a co-worker, remember?_

_Leave it alone, _Isabella whispered_. Leave. You're standing in the fucking lobby, shaking and panting like a crazy person…_

But my legs wouldn't listen. For some fucking reason I was compelled to give him the truth… _some_ part of the truth. _God help me._

"Being here," I nearly whispered. My face burned with shame as the truth escaped my lips, wildly inappropriate and pathetically simple. "Being me. Being with you."

And I _knew_ I was being ridiculous and pathetic and definitely not making any sense, and I _knew_ I was being cryptic and insanely confusing… and the most fucked up part was that, for the first time in a long time… I was being honest, too.

And I couldn't even muster the courage to fucking look away.

Edward just stared at me, emerald eyes flickering back and forth. My mouth was filled with cotton and my throat worked as I painfully tried to swallow gravel. My ears were filled with the sounds of my own ragged breathing and crippling inadequacies.

The worst part of this whole moment was that I was so horribly, _horribly_ aware of how crazy this looked.

_He doesn't even know me, and I'm going through some kind of weird emotional awakening thing right before his gorgeous eyes …._ I wanted to collapse to the ground, to bury my face in my arms and beg him to go, to please just leave me here, at my desk and alone, where I belonged… _I'm crumbling right in front of him. Something, anything put me out of my misery._

I shut my eyes and wished for him to just not be there when I opened them...

"I want you here."

His voice caressed my eyelids and willed them to open again. My heart pounded against my ribs, fluttering like a caged bird struggling for freedom. He held me with his gaze as he attacked his poor, impossible, wonderful hair.

"And you…" He laughed softly, almost sadly. "I don't know about _being_ you, but being around you… it's easy. Amazing. For me."

I couldn't find my breath.

"But as far as you being _with_ me…" He paused. "That's something I want to be easy for you. I want you to be… comfortable. With me."

And I wanted that too. More intensely than anything I had every wanted in my life… more than work, more than a run, more than to see my father or understand my mother… and I wanted to tell him that, to smooth his worried forehead and soften his tight tone. But I couldn't. I couldn't. Not right now.

"I don't think I can." The truth was plain, sad, gut-wrenching. We had barely exchanged a dozen sentences before tonight, and my pitiful confession was threatening to rip me apart at the seams. I barely knew him, but here I was confessing, supplicating myself at his feet. I craved salvation, absolution… and I wanted him to grant it to me, to save me with his lips and fingertips.

He didn't move, save for the subtle rise and fall of his broad chest. The silence stretched on between us, ballooning, expanding. My face burned; it was all too much. Again. As usual.

"Can you try?"

His words touched me, gently loosened my clenched stomach; both the question itself and his earnest, sincere, beautiful voice. I could feel myself leaning toward him, into his understanding and electric buzz. I was being irrational, raw, naked and weak… and he was there with me. Soothing me. Pleading with me. Making me feel human, and not like the damaged thing I saw in the elevator door.

Edward took another step toward me, his broad body closing the gap between us in the dark. I sucked in my breath as he released his in a rush, feeling his heat against my skin, under my clothes. My nipples instantly pebbled at his proximity, my arousal automatic and completely improper for my current situation. My hands shook at my sides.

"I just want to get to know you, Ms. Swan. I'm willing to do what I need to make that happen. And I would really like for you to try, too."

"Try what?" I felt stupid, deliberately obtuse. I was lost and found at the same time.

A smile fell from his lips, brilliant and soft and crooked.

"Just… try."

And I knew.

His words were indefinite. There was no spoken promise, no blatant declaration of intent. But as I stood there, dizzy and confused and attempting to keep my gasping inaudible… I felt a wave of white validation wash over me.

Maybe, just maybe, he understood a fraction of what I felt around him. The pull. The devastating need to see him, to be around him. At least in part.

I blinked. I had no idea what it meant, or what I was agreeing to… but I nodded my head.

Edward took another step forward. He pressed in closer to me; I had to remind myself to breath. My head grew lighter, my vision more clear: I could see freckles and stubble and pores, and the throbbing pulse point in this neck, just below his ear, blue veins crisscrossing under smooth pale skin… his fucking _heat_, green material stretched over his hard, muscled chest just inches from me… my heart threatening to explode out of my chest. I was so afraid he could hear it.

Edward's hand came up, drifting torturously close: over my arm, past my shoulder, sweeping past my neck... I could feel the muted fire lick my skin…

He pushed the elevator button behind me.

I released a ragged breath into his neck, hot and humid and far too loud. The door immediately dinged and slid open and his lithe frame walked by my prone one, gently brushing my slack arm. I choked back a soft moan as I heard him enter the elevator.

"Goodnight, Ms. Swan."

The doors slid shut.

I stood silently for a long time afterwards, knowing that in that moment, something… _something_ had changed.

**

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**I just don't have the words to describe how much I appreciate you guys. Every single one of you who have read, reviewed, or favorited/alerted this story... you make my heart happy, and I thank you.**

**Progress? **

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**-ahealthyaddiction**

**(PS: next update miiiight be a lil' quicker coming than normal… just sayin')**


	8. Chapter 7

**My beta Dawn is incredible, and her guidance really helped me through this chapter. Thank you forevers.**

* * *

_Thursday._

The rest of the week passed _far_ too quickly.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I hadn't spoken to Edward since Monday. We had seen each other every day and had even stayed late together on Wednesday night, but he had given me nothing more than a nod from across the room and his small, crooked smiles. As it turned out, I was a complete hypocrite: In spite of my reluctance over the past two weeks to get too close to him, I was now undeniably troubled as to _why_ he hadn't approached me again since our confusing confrontation in the dark lobby. It was baffling. Where I used to wish for him to keep his distance, a very selfish and not-so-insignificant part of me _desperately _wanted him to approach me, even if it was only to ask me for the fucking time.

I craved his comfort. I craved his warmth. I fucking craved _him_.

I had spent hours replaying the few moments we had shared; reliving the thrill and shame, the sound of hollow footsteps and the heat of his skin… only to realize that, ultimately, I didn't know _what_ the fuck had happened that night.

A million different scenarios ran through my head to rationalize the distance he was keeping from me: He had been exceptionally busy with clients over the last few days. He felt the same nervousness and uncertainty that I did, and he was simply unsure of how to proceed now after… whatever happened, if anything. Or… he was just freaked the fuck out. Any of those seemed to be perfectly reasonable, given my pathetic performance on Monday.

However, there was a fascinating, unexpected consequence to our interaction: Edward's calm, quiet question, his gentle request to "just try," had - for lack of a better description - _shifted_ something inside of me. It had moved the doubts and the ache and the self-loathing aside just so, and made room for a new, quiet… determination.

The turmoil that I had been struggling with for over a week now had been replaced by a buzzing calm that actually stayed with me and took me through each day as an observer instead of a quivering, stuttering mess. Despite the tumult my life had been colored with, Edward had, inexplicably, helped me feel… better.

When he had said it, a part of me knew: I _did_ want to try. It's precisely what Alice had been saying to me all along, but it was Edward's soft, pleading request that brought the two parts of me together: the hope and the guilt, the hesitant optimism and the burning chaos. I wanted to change, to live, to be successful and maybe find myself a little happier in the process. I wanted to try for Jasper, because of his easy, unwavering forgiveness and friendship. For Alice, because of her fierce, unconditional love for me. For Edward… even though he didn't know it, and never would.

But even if I couldn't have him that way, and I certainly couldn't seem to avoid him… I figured that I could at least try to appreciate his presence, right? Professionally, of course… but I also couldn't deny facts: He felt _so fucking good_ when he was standing close to me, the peace, the electric snap of his eyes and hands… I wanted it. _Needed_ it. He made me feel like I could get through… _this_. Even though he didn't even know he was doing it, I would selfishly take it to bolster my own unsteady strength.

However, in the midst of this tentative self-awareness, I absolutely needed to remember to take Edward's words at face-value: he wanted to get to know me, and that was it. I couldn't _make_ him want more, simply because a silly, naïve, pitiful part of me _wished_ it were so… it just wasn't possible. I understood that my… ugh, my _feelings_ toward him were one-sided, but he was at least interested in me being comfortable about him, and that had to be good enough.

I was acutely aware that this whole situation was impossible, bizarre, strange… but it felt so goddamn good and I felt so much freer, my muscle less tense and my face less like granite… I went with it, trying not to question or over-analyze it, to enjoy my brief respite from… well, from me.

I also tried to ignore Isabella when she piped up and whispered about how I was inevitably going to fail again.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The rest of my work week was… different.

Edward's unknowing support made me feel safer there: not as defensive, and less like a caged animal. It was oddly empowering. Instead of staring down at the rich mahogany of my desk, I dared to watch the people around me, to observe my environment… and not even the cold, wretched distance that was my norm, but rather a quiet curiosity. It was like I was seeing my surroundings through new eyes.

I hadn't seen Charlie once, and that was fine with me. Mike shot daggers at me every chance he got, but had yet to grace me with a morning visit. It was the best present he could have given me. Jessica had tried on multiple occasions to make a big show of whispering and none-too-subtly gesturing at me from across the room, but I paid her surprisingly little mind.

I worked, and watched.

Alice had even noticed a difference. Though she never directly mentioned it, I could tell from her secret smiles and ever-telling facial expressions. She and I had spent every night of the week together, during which we had talked about everything _but_ work. We made dinner together, and ran, and giggled like teenagers again.

It felt like I was coming home after a long time away.

I didn't tell her about my moment with Edward, about my weird stuttering breakdown or his soft, confusing, wonderful request. I kept mute on the event for a couple reasons: One, I knew that the minute I told her that something had passed between Edward and me, she would most certainly not leave me alone until we had dissected every last millisecond of the exchange, and she might annoy me to the brink of death.

But my other reason… well, I just wasn't ready to share Edward with anyone else. Talking about it made it real, _him_ real, and I was afraid that saying it out loud would sound as stupid as deep down I knew it really was… and this calm, this observance, this just _being_ felt too good to have it ruined by my over-analyzing. I had decided that I would fess up to her sometime later, perhaps after this project with the Cullens was over and I wasn't working directly with Edward anymore… when everything was back to normal. I would hopefully be able to look back on this tumultuous time and laugh about how neurotic I had been, and how ridiculous it was to think that a fantasy creature like Edward Masen could look at me with anything other than sympathetic, friendly eyes.

Besides, a part of me figured that Alice already knew; she _always_ just knew. She kept her questions locked away, instead simply smirking at me through expectant pauses, and laughing at my continued silence. I was confident that she knew I would tell her when I was ready, and I was grateful for her trust.

Throughout the whole week, however, I was quietly surprised and _thrilled_ that Alice actually spoke quite a bit about Jasper.

It had started with offhand observations about him from Friday; something funny he said, his fantastic top hat, his gawky, sweet dance moves. She volunteered information to me that I normally would have had to drag out of her, kicking and screaming: How nice it was to see him again. How fun it was to hang out with him, and she'd never seen those pants on him before. Interestingly, her observations were frequent and grew increasingly detailed: his hands were huge in relation to his long lanky limbs. Did I know he spoke fluent Italian _and_ American Sign Language? And she'd never noticed that his eyes weren't totally grey, (_steel_ grey, she had specified) but they had some golden flecks mixed in, too, like an alloy of precious metals, all swirled together….

Thursday night, she was going on and on about how long his legs were when I interjected, "Alice… do you know what you sound like?" She cocked her head at me, continuing to stir her tomato sauce. "A teenager. With a crush."

Alice bristled. I observed her shoulders stoop lower, her little arms tightening to her sides.

"No I don't. Jasper is just nice. A really good friend." Her back shook with her increasingly vigorous circular motions. "It's not like that."

I approached her slowly. Wrapping my arms around her tiny waist, I laid my cheek on top of her head and said softly, "Who are you trying to convince?" I smiled. "Me or you?"

But she shook me off. "No, Bella, for real." She stirred harder than necessary, tiny red orbs splashing viscously up onto her pink apron. "I don't _do_ crushes. I'm not that stupid to get involved with anyone again. I don't need that shit." Her voice wavered, and she cleared her throat.

I immediately recognized that I'd pushed her too hard. I stepped away and placed a kiss on the back of her spiky head. "Of course. I'm just being stupid. Sorry, babe."

She threw a sheepish smile over her shoulder. I grinned back, letting her know it was okay, that she didn't need to explain anything to me. I went back to chopping mushrooms.

"So…" She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. "We're on for tomorrow, right? Friday night at the bar, take two?" She was trying hard to keep her tone even and nonchalant, so as not to spook the wild animal. I rolled my eyes.

"Nice try, cupcake. I'm out this week."

She pouted. "Bells, come on. It was fun, remember? I know it was stressful and at times a little… awkward, blah blah blah… but it was fun, right? You said so yourself…"

I huffed, frustrated. She'd been quiet about this subject for days, biding her time… but I had known it was coming.

And of course I'd thought about it all week… Laughing with Alice in the dim bar lights… waltzing with Jasper, my cheek on his chest… it was great. The dancing was okay, too, if I was really coming clean. _Damn her._ Well, all except the whole _humiliating myself in front of my co-workers _thing.

I briefly thought of Charlie's scathing criticism, of his cold brown eyes and his hurtful questioning of my ethics… I shook my head, pushing the image away.

"Yes. It _was_ fun," I admitted. Alice opened her mouth, but I headed her off before she could get started. "But Alice, I can't do that again. At least not so soon…"

She jumped at the opening. "So you're saying you _would_ do it again, then?"

_Ugh._ "Maybe. Yes. But…"

"Then this is the perfect time, Bells. Why wait? The right time will never just come... Please," she held up her hands, brandishing the red wooden spoon like a weapon. "Just think about it, okay? That's all I ask. I'll call you tomorrow toward the end of the day, and if you decide absolutely not, I will back off. But be aware," she pointed the utencil at me, "I _will_ punish you at the gym for your cowardice."

I sighed. A part of me recognized that I was going down without putting up much of a fight… but I ignored it.

I had to try again. I promised Alice. I promised Edward. I promised myself.

I went back to assaulting the mushrooms.

"Enough, you persistent bitch. I'll decide tomorrow."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

_Friday._

The day roared past me like a friggin' freight train.

Through my simmering nerves, the bright shining spot for me was that the Cullen account was going exceedingly well. Our preliminary projects were in full swing and everything was going exactly as I'd hoped it would. In fact, I ended up being ahead of my projected schedule… which left me with nothing to do but dread Alice's phone call.

For the hundredth time, I stole a glance at Edward and Emmett. They were huddled together at the IT desk and had been working on something all afternoon that looked pretty intense; neither one had come up for air for the last three hours or so. Their concentration allowed me glances at Edward's profile whenever Emmett's bulk wasn't in the way, and each time my eyes mapped his jaw line, took in the shell of his ear peeking out from beneath his mop of bronze waves… I felt a wave of peace. It was bizarre, embarrassing… and addicting.

Hell, even Charlie Swan himself had emerged from his office. It was strange to see him out of his cave; he rarely spent any length of time in the bullpen, instead preferring to stay exclusively in his office, unless he was out with a client. Now, he had been standing at Angela's desk for quite some time and appeared to be quite annoyed with something on her computer screen. When Charlie's attention was momentarily diverted, I looked at Angela pointedly; she covertly raised her arms as if she were asking for a dance.

"The Gala," she mouthed.

I paused. It was not lost on me that I had just had a causal, outward exchange with a co-worker across the room, and I _hadn't_ collapsed into a puddle of nerves.

_Shit. That's… different. _Isabella lucked behind me and scowled, not unlike her father.

Jasper must have sent me fifteen emails throughout the day about going out that night, each composed in haiku form. Promptly at 5pm, my Outlook dinged.

_Dancing shoes are on,_

_The musty bar beckons us._

_Bells, will you wimp out?_

I had just deleted it when my phone rang.

"Has Jasper's Japanese poetry moved you?"

"Shit, are you two working together now?"

"It's go time, babe," Alice said firmly. "Right now. Are you in or out?"

I harrumphed and looked around the room, searching for… well, anything to get out of having to make this decision. I recognized what Alice was really asking me: Last week I had been practically dragged into socializing. This week… it was truly my call. My choice.

Alice quietly held the line and waited patiently for me to speak, humming tunelessly to herself.

Emmett and Edward both leaned back, apparently finished for the day. Edward stretched his arms above his head, and I dumbly watched his pectoral muscles jump and flex underneath his black shirt, and bulging, sinuous biceps move beneath fabric. He had his fucking sleeves rolled up again, revealing those damn forearms that I'd felt in my dreams. Saliva immediately pooled in my mouth, and I felt my face flush. I swallowed hard as a throb resounded between my legs, begging for some attention.

In another new development, I might mention that I had masturbated every night since Monday. Some nights more than once.

Clearly, unnecessary and counterproductive activity _my ass_.

I would begin to think about that moment in the lobby, his hair and eyes and chest and those _fucking_ rolled up sleeves… and the pressure would build inside of me, pushing and swelling, until my fingers would shake with strained restraint and I was succumb, my digits finally finding what ached to be touched, sliding over slick folds, rubbing hardened flesh until I moaned and unraveled in the dark.

I would then lie back, washed in sweat and shame and reluctant exhilaration… temporarily satiated. Very temporarily.

Watching him now, I could feel the wetness pooling between my legs and red heat creeping up my neck.

_Not _now_, you pervert._

"Beeeellaaaa…" Alice sang into my ear. I grunted, not done deciding. She giggled and went back to her crazy, spiraling melody.

I was watching surreptitiously as Emmett look up at the clock on the wall next to him. He said something to Edward, his big head bent low. He nodded, smiled… and then they both looked directly over at me.

They must have seen the surprise that was clearly written on my face: eyes big as tea saucers, fiery cheekbones and slack lips. Emmett's eyebrows lifted, and he pointed to the clock on the wall with one sausage finger; he made a motion like he was drinking something. He then pointed straight at me. My eyes widened further.

_Is Emmett… calling me out?_ Edward sat back and watched me, his crooked smile unleashing its full force on my fragile resolve.

Unfortunately, Charlie had also noticed Emmett's dramatics. His eyes followed the direction of Emmett's meaty arm, across the floor, and found my rigid figure at the receiving end. My father glanced back and forth a few times between myself and Emmett, who was completely oblivious to the CEO's scrutiny; he was still grinning like an idiot and his eyebrows were bouncing up and down, wiggling suggestively.

I was surrounded. Alice was purring encouraging noises into my ear, Emmett was still theatrically gesturing at me, and Charlie was watching me intently, jaw set tight and posture tense as mine… But it was Edward I looked at, and he was certainly no help. He was sitting back, with arms crossed over his broad chest and legs planted wide. I silently begged him to make my decision for me… but he just smiled that fucking insane smile and occasionally assaulted his hair.

He was waiting - always waiting - daring me to choose.

Emmett tapped his watchless wrist and took another imaginary shot. Edward laughed, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Angela duck her head behind Charlie to hide a grin…

And it suddenly occurred to me: I wasn't being judged, or made fun of. Rather, the attention I was surrounded by was laced with friendliness and gentle encouragement. Well, all except one face. Charlie's eyes were hard points, and he sat terse and still as he watched Emmett's continued pantomime of pouring and drinking.

In Charlie's icy stare, I chose.

"Alice," I said softly, "I'll meet you there in fifteen minutes. Call Jasper."

I hung up the phone, cutting off her gleeful squealing. Emmett looked at me in anticipation.

I nodded my head once at him, ridiculously solemn. Emmett thumped the table with his ham hock of a hand and grinned wildly.

I figured that I was definitely not feeling like a healthy twenty five year old woman going to a bar on a Friday night should feel. She probably shouldn't really _feel_ anything about it… it should just _happen_. But nope, not for me. I was like a toddler, standing on wobbly, bowed legs and daring to take tentative steps away from the coffee table.

_Just try, Bella._ Isabella fumed.

Edward and Emmett left minutes later, followed closely behind by Mike, who shot me one more dirty look before the elevator doors swallowed both him and his animosity. I held out hope that maybe he had finally gotten the message, and would finally be giving me the professional distance that was appropriate. _We'll just have to see._

Charlie simply stood and disappeared into his office, not giving me another glance.

_Calm down, Bella_. _You're only going to the location of your greatest humiliation in memory. And you're doing it by your own choice. No big deal. _

_You idiot._

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Alice was chatting happily with Eric when I arrived. She spun around and opened her mouth, but I held up my hands before she could begin.

"Two conditions," I said firmly. "One, whatever is in that bag," I gestured to the tote bag sitting on the bar, "I have full veto power over." She nodded emphatically. "Two, no forced dancing. I want to dance, I dance. I don't want to dance, you leave me the hell alone. Understand?"

I was afraid she might nod her head clean off her neck if she were any more enthusiastic. She pushed the bag toward me, wiggling her eyebrows. I grabbed it and headed toward the bathroom, leaving her at the bar to continue verbally assaulting poor Eric.

Alice had done relatively well this time: skinny fit dark denim jeans and my long blue tunic top that contoured to my curves, but was still modest enough. _Thank god it has sleeves,_ I thought gratefully… but when I spun it around, I narrowed my eyes: it was backless. _That evil minx_. However, of course she packed an appropriate bra. And matching lace panties. Sensible black pumps, minimal jewelry. All in all, do-able.

_She _is_ being a good girl._ She obviously wanted me to agree to do this again.

I walked out of the bathroom, fussing with my hair and resolutely refusing to look around. The bar was alive, humming; voices floating from dark corners, eyes glittering in shadows, vague movements in my periphery, like looking down into a rippling pond. I kept my eyes focused straight ahead. If there were stares, I didn't want to meet them; if hushed whispers were made, I wouldn't acknowledge them. I was giving myself a chance this time, and I wasn't going to let them surround me, smother me, like I did last time.

_Try. Just try._

Upon returning to Alice, I was surprised to see Jasper's lanky self already standing next to her at the bar. _He sure got here fast…_ I slowed my steps as I approached them. The two of them were standing close, closer than necessary. Alice had a small hand on Jasper's forearm, and they were looking at each other intently, smiling lips moving gently, eyes locked in warm familiarity. I didn't want to interrupt whatever was happening, but I also didn't want to just stand in the middle of the floor like I was lost.

"You sure didn't waste any time, Whitlock." I gave him a quick hug and picked up the drink that Alice had already ordered for me. _Oh good lord._ Sweet, scorching fire on my tongue.

"Well, I didn't want you to change your mind and bolt before I had a chance to get here." He kissed my cheek and tugged on the sleeves of his black tuxedo jacket – with tails, I noted. Of course. Grey dickies, red hightop sneakers with lilies sketched into the side… Jasper was a beautiful, accidental piece of living art.

Alice immediately made us take a shot, and then another, then another. Breathing deeply through my nose, I worked through my gag reflex while Jasper slapped his glass back on the bar, grimacing and shaking his head sharply. I shot him a look behind Alice's head; he wisely placed a hand on both of our backs and carefully steered us toward the tables, away from the bar and any temptation for Alice to buy us another shot. "Tell me all about your days, my lovelies."

We three laughed and talked and genuinely enjoyed each other's company. There was no one more surprised than me to find that I was… relaxing. It was like we were back in grad school, studying and cooking and just being friends, before I… Well, before I took the job at Swan Consulting. Alice kept a close eye on me, and her smile threatened to split her face in two.

My body and mind became looser with every beat of my heart as it pushed hot, electric courage through my veins… I couldn't help but keep an eye on Edward, who had arrived about twenty minutes after me. I felt my eyes drift toward him with increasing frequency. Every time he laughed, sipped his beer, touched his hair, or blinked… I felt the motion in my fingertips, in my tongue, in my chest. It seemed to be a hard fact: if he were in the same room, a part of my attention was always with him.

Unfortunately, Jessica had managed to make her way over to his table and was now slowly overwhelming his presence: sitting too close, laughing too loudly, showing too much skin. I tried to ignore her stupid hand on his arm, and instead focused my eyes on his exposed neck, long and smooth and terribly, horribly appetizing.

I shook my head, feeling dizzy from alcohol and reluctant, surprising freedom.

The other night, Edward and I had shared something… intimate. It was to me, at least. Ridiculously, I felt like when he'd asked me to try, he had given me… something. "Support" sounded silly. "Permission" sounded equally absurd, but that was probably the most accurate term. I felt like he gave me permission. To relax, to breathe. To try. So here I was.

_And I'm not going to let slutty-ass Jessica Stanley bring me down._

I smiled at Alice, a real, true smile. "Do you guys want another round? On me."

Alice and Jasper halted their steady stream of conversation. Alice nodded happily. "He will take a dirty martini, I will take a Cosmo, and _you_ will take the weekend off. No work tomorrow, k? We'll all go do something fun."

"Yeah, Bells," Jasper said, "we can go to the gym and get yelled at by a tiny drill instructor for five hours. Sound good?" Alice punched him in the shoulder, but laughed. Jasper rubbed him arm in pain that really might not be teasing; Alice had heavy hands.

I took a sip of my scotch and considered her offer. _That sounds… really good, actually,_ I thought. _I haven't taken an entire weekend off in… fuck I don't even remember. And ya know what? I deserve it, dammit_. I smiled. _Jesus, what do people even _do_ on Saturdays? _

I stood. "I'll think about it," I relented.

After I ordered our drinks, I looked back at my friends. From across the room, I watched their body language, their sweet looks and easy touches… and I knew something was happening. I doubted if Ali recognized it yet, but I certainly did. I think Jasper did too, judging from the goofy, adoring grin on his sweet face, and the way his eyes never left her profile as she turned to take a sip. It was obvious that they had spoken to each other during the week, because more than once I found myself on the outside of a private joke. But I didn't mind. I hid my grin behind my fresh glass of scotch and shot Jasper furtive looks. Alice was right: his eyes _were_ gun-metal grey, polished, glinting steel.

Whatever "How Bella Got Her Groove Back" bullshit I was going through, it was really Alice and Jasper's "whatever" that was making this night more than worth it. I knew I couldn't press Alice about it… yet. She'd freak out on me again, and lord knows I'd been doing enough freaking out for one household. I'd be gentle with her, as she always was with me. For now.

I watched Eric make our drinks, my eyes lazily watching his hands shake and mix and pour. It was hot in here tonight, and my flowing shirt was sticking lightly to my chest and stomach, my exposed back cool. My forearms were barely misted with cool sweat, and I rubbed my hands over my skin, slick with moisture. I shivered.

I didn't even realize the tremor rolling through my body wasn't from a breeze until he was already there.

"Two more, please, Eric."

Why_ did his voice have to be like that?_

Sweet and sultry, deep and resonant. I wanted to hear that voice whisper my name. My first name.

My muscles immediately relaxed in his soothing, steady presence; I soaked him in greedily. I tried to ignore the jumping and cracking heat that was surrounding me, and I gripped the edge of the bar, knuckles white, mind struggling to focus. My senses were heightened and I took him in through my nose, smelling spice and beer and firm, untouchable man. He seeped sex from his pores; I struggled to form a coherent thought. I felt a fresh sheen of sweat break out over my entire body, and my nipples were of course hard, as they always fucking were around him. My very own version of a hard-on.

_Thank god I don't have a cock, because I suspect that I'd be exploding out of my dungarees pretty much 100% of the time. _

Edward just stood there at the bar, smiling and watching me from the corner of his eye.

I inhaled, stale air and anxiety filling my lungs. I knew that I needed to speak first. He had spoken first to me in almost every encounter that he and I had, and I wanted to… fuck, I wanted to _try_. Give him whatever gesture I could, though I knew it was ultimately futile and without an endgame.

Too quickly, I blurted out, "What are you having?"

I immediately wanted to smack my forehead with an open palm. _Smooth. _

Edward hadn't changed out of his work clothes, but he'd lost his tie and his shirt was unbuttoned and achingly casual. I thought about how I wanted to push my hands through the opening, to rip buttons and hear them clatter against the bar top, to trace the planes of his flat chest…

_Focus on speaking complete sentences, Swan. Jesus_.

Fitted black slacks were dear friends with his incredible, full ass. The dim shadows made him brooding, gorgeous. His hair was in its usual disarray, and I noted weakly that his brow was moist, like mine; wisps of bronze were matted to his forehead, curls damp and stuck to his skin.

Like he'd been running. _Oh dear lord._

As if he could read my mind, he raked his hand through his hair, tucking the errant tendrils into the rest of the beautiful mess. The rough skin of my tongue longed to explore his temple, his ear, his wet neck, and I imagined it was sweet and soft, like the skin of a peach… or perhaps vaguely metallic and tart, like a copper penny.

"It's called Eclipse Ale." Eric set the two tall glasses in front of him. "It's from a microbrewery here in Seattle, and this is the only bar in the city that keeps it on tap." His crooked smile almost made me stop listening, but I held in there. "Have you ever had it?"

I shook my head. _C'mon Bella._ _Words._

"No. I haven't."

He paused long enough to make me suck in a nervous breath. Casually, never breaking eye contact, he pushed one frosty mug toward me.

"Would you like to try mine?" His voice was black satin, thick curling smoke, quietly turning tables. It was my turn to accept the apple.

I hesitated… but only for a second.

In an act of daring of which I wasn't even aware I was capable, I kept my eyes locked firmly on his as I reached out and grabbed the mug. It was chilled and slick under my fingers, which I were silently willing to not tremble, _please_. I raised the drink slowly, grasping the glass tight, pushing it into my lower lip as I pulled the amber liquid in to my mouth. It was cold and light, and it tickled my nose. It _was_ actually quite good… but I wasn't really experiencing the beer. I was tasting full pink lips, nibbling hard knuckles, rolling the flavor of flat abdominals along my tongue, raking a tightly muscled back with my teeth.

My throat worked as I swallowed the ale and gently set the glass back down. I saw Edward's eyes flicker down to my mouth and my tongue darted out, moist and lonely as I licked away the remaining beer and foam. I acknowledged weakly that I was wet and it was all for him, my thighs slick with arousal, my nipples puckered and aching. I had never in my life wanted anyone like I wanted him, and right this minute it had never been more intense. My whole body was hot, damp, flushed scarlet in the dim bar lights. I sucked my lowered lip between my teeth, biting down, chewing the pink flesh.

My mouth held his attention for a moment longer, watching my hard teeth worrying at the tender skin before he came back up to my own gaze. His eyes were darker now, dilated and alert, smoldering olive green and glittering black coal.

"That was…" _Borderline orgasmic? _

I cleared my throat and tried again. "That was really good, thank you. I might try that sometime instead of the scotch." I felt myself smile at him, and his eyes lit up as he grinned back. We stood there for a moment, and as I looked at him, I felt something swell in my chest, flutter against my ribs like nervous butterflies…

… and god help me, it might have been hope. And maybe even some courage, too.

"I'm really glad to see you here tonight." Edward said softly. My heart swelled, flew away on thrumming wings, and I felt mild, unknown, exciting panic bubble in the pit of my stomach. _Holy shit, is he going to try and converse with me? Like a normal person?_ I didn't know what to do…

_Trying listening and responding, dumbass._ Oh, right.

"You work very hard," he continued. ""Dedicated. You are early every morning, late every night. It's good to see you take a break."

_We're talking about work, _I realized. A safe enough subject, especially since my head was already swimming from Alice's stupid shots. _What I really wanted to do was ask him if he has recently had his STD checkup, because I had a backseat big enough for two. _I smiled at my own silliness, allowing myself a small kudo for my guts.

"I suppose I could say the same for you." I felt a small smile tug at my lips, and I dared to look at him from under my eyelashes. "You only know how much I work because _you're_ always there, too."

_Am I… awkwardly… flirting?_

Oh god, I was. I didn't know why… he was a bronze god who was possibly fucking the office slut, and I was the weirdo CEO's daughter who had a bizarre panic attack right in front of him not four days ago, but here I was, actually stringing sentences together… and almost coyly, to boot! I could practically hear the rusty gears turning in my head, groaning from disuse.

I absentmindedly ran my index finger and thumb up and down along the stem of Alice's cosmo glass. I stopped when his green eyes flash down to my fingers before quickly coming back up to my face and another throb resounded between my legs. I blushed.

_Oh baby Jesus, I'm absentmindedly jacking off the martini glass._

He laughed, shaking his head. "Well, I guess you got me there." I felt myself flush deeper red. I caught the movement of his eyes to my cheeks, which in turn caused them to burn even brighter.

"But you…" he continued, "you work with a purpose. I've never seen someone so committed. Focused…" He took a sip of his beer, casually shrugging. "You're quite the employee, Ms. Swan."

_Ms. Swan. _It echoed between my ears.

I bit my lip, this time not flirtatiously. Painfully.

_Fucking hell._

"And you as well, Mr. Masen." I had automatically switched into my work voice. "A model employee." Fake. Plastic.

And just like that, I hated myself again.

_Because remember, Bella? You don't do first names. You don't do socializing. And you certainly don't do… whatever the fuck you were trying to do right now. _

"Ms. Swan? Is something wrong?" His words were brutal silk, rubbing gravel into my sensitive skin. He noticed my posture, my change in tone. I cringed again.

"I'm Ms. Swan." My words were robotic and heartbreakingly, brutally honest. My mouth wouldn't allow me to speak anything but the truth to him… even if the truth was humiliating and hurtful.

I immediately reprimanded myself for giving a shit… about him, about how he felt, and certainly about how he'd asked me to _try_. Whatever the fuck that had meant.

His eyes widened in alarm. "Of course you are. I apologize, Ms. Swan," his tone naked, plaintive. Honest. "I didn't mean any disrespect."

I exhaled miserably._ Oh my god.._. He was apologizing. He thought I was chastising him for trying to talk to me, for treating me like a human being instead of a Swan in Swan Consulting.

_How the _fuck_ could I get this so wrong, so quickly?_

"No." My word was curt, staccato through my tumult. I stared at my scotch because I couldn't bear to look at those beautiful, bottomless eyes. I could feel the panic begin to bubble in the pit of my stomach and I willed calm to guide my breathing. _I will _not_ do this here._ I peeked at his profile in the mirror behind the bar, watching him watch me begin to fall apart. Again.

I hated that I was here, I hated that I was letting this happen...

Mostly, I hated myself for being perpetually weak.

And I didn't any longer even have the fucking self control to lie to him.

"I'm here. _We're_ here, and in some horribly clumsy way, I'm… I'm trying to…" I trailed off and laughed bitterly at my complete lack of adequate verbs, not expecting him to understand. I wore my shame on my skin, and I had to finish now. "I am still Ms. Swan." I swallowed, the stupid fucking honesty pouring out of me. "To you. And I think that's for the best."

Comprehension dawned on his handsome face. I saw his long fingers twitch, muscles flexing under skin as his arm reflexively jerked out… but he stopped, retreated, laid his hand flat on the polished wood.

"I'm sorry," Edward said again. His voice was different now; softer, monotone. Somber. It made me feel even worse. "I didn't mean to upset you..."

I interrupted him with a wave of my hand. "No, please, it's not your fault. It's mine entirely." I laughed again. It tasted sour. "It's just so silly for me to be here, like this."

"No, it isn't." His voice was unexpectedly forceful, and I flinched. "I'm glad you're here," he continued, his voice whispering across my inflamed skin. "_Right_ here." His forehead was creased again, and the frown he wore looked unnatural on him.

"Unfortunately, it is." I took a deep breath, and I smiled down at the bar top. "It's foolish. _I'm_ being foolish." I paused and took a breath. Collected myself before continuing, "I understand now what you meant the other evening, Mr. Masen. A level of comfort is important between co-workers, especially because we're working together on such an important client. I apologize for being so… awkward. I told you I would try, and I should… I should always strive to be a more effective employee. But this," I waved my hand stiffly, gesturing around the room, "_this_ is not conducive to that end, and I should have known that."

Edward leaned closer. His long torso pressed toward me and electricity crackled and ran fast down my spine, but I shied away on impulse; my brain was unable to process the feelings of failure that were churning between my ears and the blind rush of desire pooling between my legs, urging me to me reach out and touch him, to beg him to save me, bring me back, keep me here...

His voice was low and rough, raw sugar and shifting sand.

"That wasn't what I meant." His voice came from deep in his chest, rumbling thunder in this cold storm. I blinked, swallowing sharp anxiety.

His words were almost a whisper. "Don't you know that yet?"

My eyes snapped up to his. He pierced through me, and I was drowning in green pools; his mouth set straight, features unpredictably urgent. It was completely irrational, but once again I felt like he could see inside of me, really see me, behind the walls and masks and plastic and lies… and right now, dear god, I couldn't let him see what I was really feel… _thinking_. My legs threatened to give way, to leave me crumpled on the floor – I deserved as much.

The bar spun; I needed to find solid ground.

_You can't do this._ Isabella crooned. _Get away. RUN._

"I don't know what you mean." I tried to make my voice casual, but the waver was unmistakable. I laughed, hoping to ease the tension and mask my lie, but the sound was vacant, fragile. "This _was_ a mistake." The truth was ugly. "No matter what, it seems that you will always be Mr. Masen, and I will always be Ms. Swan."

Edward was quiet. His face was unreadable, but his eyes… his eyes took my breath away. They were churning. Alive. They touched every inch of my exposed skin, seared me like acid.

This time, he took a full step closer to me… and _oh god_ he was right there, and he was so tall and beautiful, so good, and his eyes… shit, his fucking _smell_… and his mouth and arms and hair and neck… _Why is he doing this? And why am I torturing myself?_ I knew I needed to go.

I countered by taking a step backward, away from him, away from danger and energy, uncertainty... I turned around, intending to back away…

That's when Edward reached out and touched me, his long fingers encircling my upper arm.

_Fuck fuck fuck._

The heat from his grasp burned straight through the thin fabric of my shirt.

I gasped audibly, my brain stuttering, my entire self caught underneath the palm of his hand. His eyes penetrated me, and bubbling blue panic and white hot lust stained my face, flashed sparks in my eyes. Images crashed and invaded, filling my vision: I saw my dreams and _more_, even more than I had dared to dream. I saw his lips and eyelashes and hands everywhere, saw light and exposed skin and sweat, the long length of his naked back, muscled and taut, the lines gently sloping down to meet with the poetic curve of firm, full ass. I saw my fingers digging into the solid flesh, pulling forward and in as I lay open beneath him. I saw his face… his gorgeous, honest face, as he _finally_ pushed into me, filling me with stars and emerald fire, completing and …

"Please don't run away again."

His voice was undeservedly soft, a silken plea, fluttering moth wings ticking my skin, sliding slick along the thin skin of my neck.

_Go. Go. You have to go _now_. _

My words were razor blades, cutting my own flesh. "Thank for you for the taste of something different, Mr. Masen, but I think I'll stick to what I know."

I lightly tugged away from his grasp, and he didn't fight me. The loss of his heat and touch physically hurt me, pain and useless regret shooting down my sternum. I quickly grabbed my nearly-forgotten drinks in an attempt to hide the shaking, pink liquid splashing in my haste. "Goodnight."

Alice jumped when I set the drinks on the table in front of her.

"Oh, Bells! You scared me." She laughed and smacked Jasper on the shoulder. "Jazz was just saying…"

"Ali, I'm going to head home, okay?" I said in a rush. I didn't even bother with an excuse. My skin was ice cold where Edward's hand had been, and I rubbed the spot reflexively. Jasper began to stand up, but I gently pushed him back down. "No, Jasper. Stay and enjoy, I'm going to cab it home."

"But we just barely got here…" I shook my head, and Jasper sighed as he sat back down. "Okay… but _sometime_ you have to make it past 10pm with us, okay?"

I laughed woodenly, and it must not have reached my eyes because Alice's eyebrow immediately shot up. _Shit_. Little imp knew something was up, and I knew I needed to leave before she had the chance to "suggest" that she leave with me.

I had to force my feet to maintain a walking pace as I hurried for the exit. I didn't care who was there anymore, or who was watching me, because there was only one set of eyes that could send me over the edge, cause my chest to ache right now and acrid panic to flood my tongue. But I had to get away from him, before he too saw what everyone else in my life had always come to see… that I was useless, weak, not worth attention when it was just me, standing naked and vulnerable.

As I jumped in the waiting cab, I heard the bar door swing open but I closed my eyes; the world was swirling and spinning and fucking refusing to stay straight, and I didn't want to watch it anymore.

"Just go, please!" I commanded the confused driver.

We peeled away from the curb before I had completely shut the door.

I imagined that I heard my name being called from the darkness.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

_I might as well keep running._

Less than an hour after I had stood speaking with Edward and had realized once again how fucking stupid I was for thinking I could be a normal person… I was running, alone, in the dark, in the dead of night.

I knew it wasn't smart: being by myself so late, in the middle of the night, running with my head still revolving in clumsy circles. But I was fucking angry at myself, and obviously wanted to continue with the stupid and reckless behavior.

_Sweet, I'm so glad I have this new found self-awareness. Aren't I doing better?_

Besides, I had a stun gun in my back pocket and self-defense techniques from Alice, so I felt comfortable enough holding my own in well-lit neighborhoods.

Like the one I was in now. One with long dark lawns and pretty suburban poplar trees. Familiar and troublesome, flanked by bad decisions and lonesome impulsiveness.

I assured myself that I _wasn't_ looking for him this time because I knew he was at the bar: I imagined him smiling and drinking, probably assaulting his poor hair, maybe even dancing with some girl. Maybe Jessica. She had been there, right? I knew I couldn't have him, but a feeble part of me didn't want that dumb blonde bitch to have him, either.

But either way, it shouldn't matter to me.

My muscles screamed profanities.

_So this is great, right Bella? This is what you want, right? What you deserve? Isn't that what you've been telling yourself every goddamn day for the last… forever?_

I grit my teeth. Something was beginning to bubble up inside of me, pushing through cracks, seeping through fissures, some orange and viscous, molten like lava. I stopped moving, and stood, chest heaving, fist clenched at my side. A light mist of rain steadily darkening my shirt, making my hair stick to my ears.

_No. No, it's not what I want._

I was pissed. Seething. The night was pitch black, but my vision was blood red.

I was furious at myself… For behaving this way. For being so impossibly_, _frustratinglyemo that I was even annoying my fucking _self_. And for running, always running, both right now through the dark and from the only person that made me feel truly alive.

I tipped my head up, seeking stars to temper my sight, to turn my fury into convoluted logic: there were none.

_I am SO FUCKING TIRED of behaving this way. _

I collapsed onto the curb, as if even my legs couldn't stand for this anymore, either. My fists were tight balls in my lap, shaking, my nails cutting into my soft palms.

I didn't want to do this anymore. I was so fucking done with sprinting through the night from something that I couldn't possibly outrun. I was exhausted by this constant war in which I was engaged, the incessant berating, the doubts. I was so tired of telling myself that, for some ancient reason, I can't have what I want, even though my mind and body and heart screamed for it.

Forgiveness. Freedom. Happiness. Fluidity. _Him_.

I had been so determined to make it tonight. To relax. To live. Take it as it comes. And I had let one thing, one stupid name, ruin it all.

_Was it worth it, Bella? Did running away actually fix anything? Make anything go away? _

_No_, I answered_. No, because he is still there, and I'm not. I didn't give him a chance because I don't give _myself_ a chance. And I can't keep going around and around in this shame spiral, ending up in the dark. Alone. Forever. _

My body was almost vibrating with energy, sharp panting breath forming twin clouds from my nostrils. My head was clear, bright, sharp. No hint of numbness, and I didn't want it now, anyhow. No more hiding. No more denying and convincing. No more running from him.

_I should have stayed… but I didn't. And I could kick my own ass for doing it, too. _

Fuck, I didn't know what this revelation meant, me sitting here, under a black umbrella of starless space, on this rainy Seattle night. I didn't know that it changed a goddamn thing about my life: my relationship with my father or my disdain for my mother, my inability to trust another person, or my hopeless, doomed crush for the perfect, wonderful, untouchable Edward Masen. But I _felt_ different

Because in that moment, I didn't want to punish myself anymore. I didn't want to lie to myself, to try and make myself believe I was justified with flawed logic. And I wasn't running.

I wanted to fight.

Something else was coursing through my veins, too. Thick anger still pumped, and I could feel it burning my ribs, coloring my cheeks and my visions. I was free from the dangfer of anther panic attack; there was no creeping hysteria skirting the edge of my thoughts, no lead or acid filling my stomach. It wasn't hatred, or fear, or confusion. But there was something. Something more. _I _was more.

It was determination.

Determination to conquer this irrational, destructive urge to run that was preventing me from living. To work on seeing myself as a whole person, not just a collage of assembled bits and broken pieces, glued together to form a version of me that I couldn't stand to wear anymore. To be a better friend to my unconditionally loyal friends, and to be a woman that someday, someone like Edward Masen might have in his life. He was my inspiration – the idea of him, anyway – as was Alice, and Jasper… and, since I was being honest, in a perverse, pathetic way, my father, too. I wanted to be better for them, better for him, better for _me_…

This realization came not with a bang, but with a whimper; a whisper of water on my hot skin, a quiet black night. Reverent gratitude and silent promises.

I sighed. This won't change much, Bella. I know that I wasn't magically fixed, and that tomorrow would bring uncertainty and shame and my own harsh critcism. I knew that this courage that was falling down up my shoulders, like the rain, will have waned by tomorrow, when I found myself under damp sheets, quaking from a dream. I knew that when I walked into the office I would be gripped by the self-doubt that I had worn for years, and that I might stumble backward, looking for a get-away – probably more than once.

I screwed my eyes up tight, hands aching, knuckles white from pressure. My back bowed under the weight of my wish.

_Please just remember this, Bella. Please. You are better than… this. I might not know exactly what I am, yet… but I'm better than this existence. _

My thoughts straightened out, smoothed, became a gentle humming in my ears. I saw emerald calm, and felt him, felt comforted by his existence in the world, even in his absence. I silently thanked Edward Masen for just _being_, for having a presence in my life; he was perfect, and I was not. But I could work on it. The thought was painful, but I knew it was true: even if I never even spoke with him again, I vowed that I would work on being the kind of person that might be worthy of him. Of his affection, and touch. Of his love. That his limited, kind, generous attentions on me would not be in vain, would not be wasted on unaffected plastic.

I'd said the words before, out loud and in my head, but hadn't _felt_ them… I wanted to try. Again.

But that, of course, was up to me.

I opened my eyes, turned, and walked home.

* * *

**C'mon, Bella. Hang in there guys, she's working on it... trust me, I want them together, too. 3**

**I love you all so damn much. Sincerely. I seriously have the best, most thoughtful reviewers EVER. And to you silent readers… I love you all, too, and appreciate you following this silly story. *muah***

**As always: Twilighted thread: http : //(dot) twilighted (dot) net/forum/viewtopic(dot)php?f=44&t=5250**

**Twitter: ahlthyaddiction. I tweet about Disciplined Breakdown and other inane things. **

**- ahealthyaddiction**


	9. Chapter 8

**Thank you Dawn, for being such a great beta, person, and friend. **

**Thank you The Boyfriend who, as of last Wednesday, will now be known as The Fiancée.**

**This update is for RockABelly. Happy birthday. **

* * *

_Heavy beats thump thick, the air around me solid and slick. The music is pulsing, sultry, dark as oil and it entices my limbs to move. My feet chart patterns on the wooden dance floor while my hips shift and freely sway._

_I close my eyes and sip the beat without inhibition, greedily taste the tempo on my tongue. It's not any song I recognize, but it's intense as it pushes through my veins, slips over my sweaty skin. I move like fluid through the air. My palms drift aimlessly over my hips, across my stomach, up my waist; the shirt gathers at my wrist, exposing firm, flat flesh. _

_He is sitting in a booth, half-hidden in shadows. I can only see parts of him, flashes of pale skin and vibrant color: Hands pressed firmly against the tabletop. Long legs parted, planted wide. And I can see his eyes.... They glitter green, sparks and heat. A welcome predator, watching me from the cover of darkness. _

_I circle my hips and rotate away from him, hands tracing a path up the smooth skin of my neck, finding refuge in my thick, damp hair. My spine twists, arches, and I cast a glance over my shoulder… I feel him studying me, watching me writhe in rhythm, learning the lines of my body as I touch my humming skin. _

_I want to show him what I want. What I want him to do. _

_I hear movement behind me, and my breathing stops. _

_His steps are even, purposeful, torturous. I close my eyes, tilt my head back in supplication. Waiting. Willing._

_I hear footsteps, slow and stalking, making me anticipate the strike…_

_And then he's behind me, pressing hot and hard and insistent against my shivering back, and _oh god_ I feel him… and _fuck me_, there are way too many fucking layers of fabric between us._

_There is no hesitation now, no fucking doubts or chastisement. I know what I want, and it's finally imminent. _

_His big hands - those hands I've enviously watched manipulate objects for so many months now - those very same hands come up and cup my full breasts, kneading the soft flesh, thumbs expertly playing with the hardened nubs through my thin shirt. I gasp and throw my head back farther, resting on his shoulder. My nerves have jagged edges, frayed like raw silk. _

_I would beg him for more with words and biting kisses, sink to my knees and offer him anything he wants, _anything_ if he'll just keep. _

_Fucking. _

_Touching me. _

_The area between my legs is throbbing, needing him, crying for attention… _

_Now. No teasing and no tentative touches, just him and me and skin and friction, fast and hard and _here_, bringing weeks of reluctant fantasy to fruition._

_My moan cuts through the melody, and I never stop moving to the silky beat. My hips and thighs twist together, rewriting the music. I feel a rigid swelling of firm flesh pressing into my ass, hard as fucking iron, and I'm grinding him through denim and thin lace… and dear god I want more. _

_His hands encircle my upper arms, gripping tightly, and he spins me to face him. I halt my movement and just stand, ensnared. _

_He is simply breath-taking. A dream, a fantasy, yet somehow a _real_ man, with gentle scars and hard, copper stubble and purple blood churning below thin, pale skin. His nostrils are flared, air sweet and hot across my face, eyes are black with… something, churning and alive and piercing. His soft, full mouth mere inches from mine but oh god, not touching me… He searches through me with my eyes, stealing secrets that I would willingly give him. Emeralds on fire, burning, and I breathe deep to take him in… _

_He moves forward; my eyes close on their own. I taste his breath. His lips just barely brush mine before he stops, and I am only given a glimpse heaven. _

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. _Mine_._

_In desperation, I groan and move in earnest to close the gap, to find satisfaction, but he holds his distance, dodging back just out of reach. My hands roam wildly over his chest, searching for purchase, taut skin under my singing fingertips… He lets them move, journeying up his neck, slick from sweat and my hands are _in his hair_, finally touching his fucking hair, getting tangled and lost, and I'm lost too…_

_I tug on the wild bronze locks, _hard_, and he growls then, feral and ripping low from his throat. It reverberates between my legs and pools wet in my tight jeans. _

_Thick arms envelope my waist and I'm moving… My feet leave the floor and my back is being pressed into rough wood. _

_My fingers sink reverently into curly copper. He hesitates for a moment, hovering above me, the rest of the world has fallen away… _

_His lips finally find purchase, tasting me for the first time and I gasp, oh god he is sweet and heat and just as I imagined. He is gentle and kind, teasing, sucking and biting at the pale flesh of my neck, tongue lapping at my fiery skin and I groan and attempt to draw his head even closer to my exposed throat, holding him there with all my strength. _

_I hear a soft sound: he is clucking his tongue at me, an admonishing noise, and I feel his smile against my neck as he reaches up with one marble arm and removes my hands from his hair. I whimper, mourning the loss of the silken threads beneath my fingers, but then he unexpectedly gathers both my wrists in one fist and jerks my limbs up above my head, pinning me down._

_I'm exposed, completely open… and god help me, I'm his to do with what he wants._

_There is more fast movement and distantly I hear a chair clatter to the ground, but I don't care, I _can't_ care because all that exists are his lips and fingers, working hard, textured tongue now lapping at the thin skin covering my collarbone. He clutches the material between my breasts and with a glorious jerk rips the silk, the fabric parting wetly. His hand explores this newly exposed skin, pinching and rubbing at puckered pink peaks and it's too much too much and I groan wildly and arch my back… _

_He isn't close enough. _

_He's _never_ close enough. _

_He shifts against me urgently, and I feel him where I need him, solid and hot and _big_, pushing against my throbbing center in time to the unrelenting beat. I immediately wrap my legs around his lean waist and thrust up into him, again and again, meeting and matching, giving and getting. The sounds of panting and moaning, wet smacks and rasping fabric fill the dark bar. _

_Time stops._

_The hot shackles are then gone from my wrists, and he puts both of his hands on either side of my head, humid breath one again fanning across my face. _

_We stop, and we stare, eyes locked, chests heaving, touching with each gasp. _

_His eyes: twin paradoxes, dual meanings keeping me confused and turned on high… they are soft and alive, fiery and sweet… god please, I am flushed, swollen, wet and pulsing, please let me find satisfaction, release, salvation in him… _

_But his _eyes_ - those fucking eyes - they hold me immobile, wrapped in pulsing heat. Every time._

_I don't hear, but rather feel his voice, sensual and rough, caress my ear… I close my eyes and surrender, submitting to whatever comes next… just no more fucking thinking, _just_ feeling… _

_A sweet word whispered, like honey dribble in thin ropes across my bare skin._

"_Bella…" _

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Wet sheets twisted, damp ropes knotted firmly around my curled legs. My chest heaved, grasping at cold air that filled my lungs with jagged splinters of ice. The sweat on my skin met the cool breeze from my open window, and I shivered.

I stared at the ceiling, shuddering and sighing in resignation. I tried to both push away and clutch tight the remaining fragments of the dream as it fell away from my memory, escaping between my fingers like sand…

I rolled over and curled in a ball, finally trying to push the lingering thoughts of him away and instead forcing my mind on what I _should_ have been thinking of… something reasonable… like… what I can make for dinner tomorrow. Yeah. Or how far I should run with Alice.

Safe things. Manageable. Realistic.

The rest of the night passed slowly.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

_Bella. Saturday._

"Shut the _fuck_ up!"

I could see Alice bouncing in my peripheral vision, spiky hair flat with sweat, round face glowing like a paper lantern. "How much is it? When is it? Do you think you're really going to do it?"

How she could still be so energetic at the tail end of a 10 mile run was beyond my understanding.

I laughed and huffed as we slowed to a stop. "Okay: No, I won't. I don't know how much it is, it begins in three weeks, and yes, I really think I'm going to do it."

My watery muscles hummed as I flopped down on the damp grass and looked around. The park near our house was normally teeming with screaming kids, but it currently sat empty. It was very early Saturday morning and the forecast had predicted rain... well, any minute now, actually.

Alice knelt next to me and leaned forward, eyes blazing the color of burnt honey. "Bella, that's awesome! You haven't danced in forever!" One eyebrow went up, and she cocked her head. "Do you have a partner yet?"

"No," I replied. I pulled the toe of my running shoe gently toward me, my calf muscles tightening and redacting painfully beneath my wet skin. "But, I deliberately picked an intermediate ballroom class that doesn't require a partner, so I figure I'll just dance with whoever is there." I shrugged. "It'll work out, I'm sure."

I took Alice's silence as validation: she certainly wasn't one to mince words, and I smiled and thought back over the last eight days with satisfaction.

That last late-night run had thrown me for a loop. The quiet, unfocused, burning determination I had found while under the blanket of black night had followed me home, curled with me under my sheets, and had not yet dissipated by the next morning. It was purposeless resolve, without direction… but it was there, burning bright blue.

I knew that I needed to do _something_. To stop being so goddamn emo and whiny about my life (or lack thereof). I needed to organize. I needed a plan. I am Bella Swan, after all.

So, being me, I came up with a goal: I was going to break old habits. I felt infinitely better with a plan, with a path and a newly-prepared checklist of things to do. Structure, my own personal brand of heroin.

Last Monday morning I had put that plan in motion.

The idea was to go out of my way to do things that made me uncomfortable. I had said hello to Angela every morning, asking her about Ben and straining to keep a natural-looking smile on my face. I had tentatively waved to Emmett from across the room, though my cheeks had flushed furious red each time and I had quietly struggled to catch my breath.

The most trying exercise in self-torture had been that, though my mind and body had screamed for the release like a junkie craving a hit, I only allowed myself two runs the entire week, with Alice. Though, truth be told, Alice might have been more brutal on my poor body than if I had run on my own. That chick could have passed for a fucking terminator, if the T-1000 were short and beautiful and overly-enthusiastic.

Finally, every day this last week, I had grit my teeth, held my breath… and (wait for it) smiled at my co-workers.

It sounds so stupid, I know, but… holy _shit_ had it been hard. It was different, foreign, completely at odds with the way I had behaved every damn _day_ since I had come on to Swan Consulting, but… I did it anyway. Their shocked, confused faces were brutal, like sandpaper on my eyeballs, and their consistent deadpan rejection weighed like heavy stones in my stomach… but I kept at it, over and over masochistically flashing grin after grin. Once in a while one would smile back, and I would feel a twitch of validation… but mostly I received blank stares.

But I was committed now. I had a plan.

_It will get easier,_ I told myself every night. _I will be more normal soon, less like a jigsaw puzzle. _I reasoned that it was like a pair of shoes that needed to be broken in: blisters were inevitable, but they eventually gave in the right places, collapsing and distorting to fit the owner.

_The dreams will stop, too._ I shivered. _Eventually_. The haunting, vivid images would eventually fade and blur…

Bronze hair haloed in morning light. A hot palm holding me a willing captive. A velvet voice asking me to… well, it didn't matter. I would stop waking up alone, soaking wet from sweat and arousal, panting and twitching and reaching for someone who wasn't there.

Pain and memories lessen with time; I had learned that lesson too well, and needed to apply it here. I just needed to… keep going… acknowledge him with polite nods, to force myself to turn away from his profile, to deny myself the depth of his eyes. I had to train myself to look _inward_ for strength, and not seek his heat and false comfort. I would simply replace him with other things… good things. Activities, sports, lessons…

The ache would subside, and I would forget.

I _needed_ this to work. I felt good, I felt safe… I concluded that I just had to keep wearing this coat, and I would eventually grow into it.

So all in all, a good week.

Alice looked at me for a moment, suddenly going from contemplative to dangerous. She shook her head. "We're going to have to talk about this some time, Swan."

_Huh?_

I whipped my head up and looked at her. _What could she possibly be referring to?_

"Talk about what, exactly?"I had literally _just_ been thinking about my progress… and she was mad? _She has nothing to pick at me for right now._ I had only stayed late at the office one time in the last week, and the rest of the nights we had spent together, going to the gym, watching the Mariners and making dinner… I had even looked up those stupid lessons that were way below my skill level at the local dance academy; I thought that maybe there I would find the fluency I'd been seeking. Dancing was like a second skin to me, like home. The comfort of easy steps, known beats and remembered movements.

I truly thought Alice would be _thrilled_ with me, and her negativity was really… well, it was bumming me out.

"You," she stated matter-of-factly, "and your refusal to accept what you _really_ need to do."

My frustration flared, something straining dangerously against confines in my mind.

"Jesus, Alice, what the fuck am I supposed to do?" The words were too forced, unexpectedly desperate, and I realized suddenly that I wasn't as confident as I had hoped.

_Shit_.

"I _have_ been trying. I've loved hanging out with you more, running and cooking and letting you kick my ass at the gym. That's all been good, right?"

"Yes."

"And I'm going to dance again… that's a good thing. When is the last time I had an extracurricular activity?"

"When is the last time you had sex?" she shot back.

_Oh. Well that's just low_.

I sputtered nonsensical sounds, my mouth opening and closing like a surprised trout. "I… ah, I mean… not _too_ long ago…" I tugged at my wet bangs, my face sizzling against the impending storm. "I don't remember specific dates."

I was lying, and she knew it. I was well-aware of the last time I had sex. It was almost two and a half years ago. Two and a half very long, very dry years.

His name was Jacob, and he worked for another consulting firm here in Seattle. He was tall and dark and aloof, brown eyes and skin and perfect, white teeth. He was a brilliant businessman, naturally charismatic and clever, and maybe a little on the aggressive side. Okay, more than a little aggressive. "A wolf in the boardroom," I had heard him described… it certainly fit.

We had met at a business luncheon, where we exchanged cards. We'd talked about nothing but business the entire first encounter, but decided to meet up from drinks later. We made some small talk, and not thirty minutes later we were fucking in his hotel room. It was so incredibly unlike me, so dirty and daring and foreign… but it was at a time in my life when I needed to not be me for a while, and Jacob gave me the out I needed.

Practically the second he rolled off of me, he had gotten a call from a client that he had insisted he take. I showed myself out the door. The precedent had been set.

His aptitude as a consultant was incredibly attractive to a young woman just starting in the corporate world. I admired Jacob's ability to make things happen, to work with machine-like efficiency without heeding people's feelings or getting too attached to anyone. I especially envied his ability to distance himself from the people around him, to focus completely on work, and eventually his habit to tune even me out when I accidently wanted to linger, when I considered speaking with him as a person and not just an object. I took no offense to his cold shoulder, but rather I coveted his discipline.

He was handsome and muscled, tall and cruel, calculated and insensitive to my (virtually nonexistent) needs. He was completely emotionally unavailable, and allowed me to suppress my needs, to deny myself the comfort of a partner. I allowed him to treat me like I felt: like nothing.

He was perfect for me.

Our relationship never went beyond late-night texts with a hotel name and room number, and the occasional fevered fuck at lunch. I used him for an escape, and he used my body for a release. But that was back at the tail-end of when I still needed to feel something, a relief from the cold reality of work… to feel hot flesh fill me, make me whimper, remind me I was alive.

The sex… it was good, but not _mind_-blowing. His touch and presence was purely physical; and we rarely had a conversation that didn't involve corporate buzzwords. I never knew his back story, he never asked mine. Our arrangement petered out after a few months; there was nothing tying us together. We had both known that our arrangement wasn't long-term.

Fast forward to today: there had pretty much been nothing going on for me _down there_ since Jacob. Well, nothing that involved another person, anyway. However, there had certainly been an increase in activity over the past month, I was slightly embarrassed to admit.

I grunted unhappily. "What does that have to do with me taking dance lessons?"

Alice nodded, a smug expression on her face. "Yup. That's what I thought."

I rolled my eyes. "Say something, you bitch. Your point being?"

"Human contact, Bella. _Physical,_ person to person interaction. When's the last time you felt another person's skin that wasn't attached to me, Jazz, or a client through one of your man-like handshakes?"

Pathetically, I actually had to think hard_. It was… shit. _I closed my eyes, turning my head away from Alice.

_Oh fuck._ I froze. _It was roughly three weeks ago._

It was with Edward's finger, handing me my tea in the lobby of the Cullen's office. His arm had brushed my clothed limb in the lobby later that day, and then he'd grasped my arm at the bar, through the thin cotton of my shirt… but that simple, insignificant brush of his finger was the only skin I had touched in a non-platonic/non-professional way in…

_Jesus._

"What about you?" I lashed out, embarrassed by this revelation. "When is the last time you 'connected' with someone, huh? And I don't mean in the 'spiritual' sense, I mean in the 'doing an impression of a Lego' sense."

"I'm a different story."

"Why?"

"I _choose_ to be celibate."

"Ha!" I rolled my eyes at her. "Hardly a difficult vow. You avoid dick like the swine flu."

She threw back her head and laughed, loud and real. I felt some of the tension between us dissolve in the crisp air. As I watched her stretch, I recognized an opening. _Should I try and pry now, or wait?_

"So, what's up with you and Jasper?"

Her face was pressed flat against her knees, her body folded completely in half so I couldn't see her face. I held my breath when she didn't move, hoping that I hadn't upset her.

"Nothing." Her voice was muffled against her knees. "It's just been nice talking with him. I forgot how much I… how much _we_ liked hanging out with him."

"Huh." I tried to sound nonchalant as I watched her out of the corner of my eye. "So you've been talking to him a lot, yeah?"

"Yeah, every day." Alice sighed. _Oh my god she just sighed_. And to my absolute shock, she continued. "He calls me every morning, just to tell me a joke and make me laugh. Then he calls me during the day, when he sees something beautiful, or fascinating, or extraordinary… like me, he says." My mouth dropped silently open. "And he's so funny, Bella… just yesterday…"

Alice's unexpected confession came to a halt. She snapped her head up to my excited, shocked face and growled, "_You_ are changing the subject, you bitch. We're talking about you and your poor, lonely vagina. And your heart, of course. But mostly your vagina."

I sighed again, knowing that I wasn't going to get anymore out of her today.

"There's nothing to talk about, Alice." I heard her grunt softly, and I immediately felt bad for being dismissive. I knew that she was only pressing me because she cared about me – the same way I was pushing her to open to me about her obvious feelings for Jazz.

"I'm trying, babe." I winced a bit; the subject of "trying" had been a bit of a sore subject for me. I still hadn't told Alice about my conversation with Edward, in the lobby… since it didn't matter anymore, of course. I was dealing with more important facets of my life. Besides… the failure was still too fresh, too wet.

"I'm putting myself out of my comfort zone, and I'm making an effort to be a human being –"

She cut me off. "Did you talk to him this week?"

I blinked at her. "Who?"

"You know who. Your green-eyed drinking buddy. Edward Masen. Did you talk with him?

My stomach clenched, but I didn't falter in my stretch. "Yes." She narrowed her eyes. "Well… I mean, indirectly. We communicated via email and we saw each other at work, but I don't see what…"

She interrupted me again. "That's exactly what I'm talking about, Bella. That right there." I was surprised that she sounded a little irritated.

"What are you talking about? Spit it out, kid."

I saw that her lips were tightly pursed together. _Uh oh._ She only did that when she was upset.

"Bella Swan," she said quietly, "do you remember about a week ago, when I mentioned that I thought you were agitated? When I asked if your runs weren't working anymore?"

"Yes," I said eagerly, "and I haven't even been ru –"

She held up her hands, and continued. "I was so excited, because whether you saw it or not, comfortable or not… you were feeling something. Something real, and moving, and passionate."

I swallowed thickly. I didn't really want to hear this right now.

"But Bella, this last week… since we went to the bar two Fridays ago… you're back to hollow. Empty. You're uncomfortable, all the time… You're a ghost."

I felt something inside me twitch, but I just shook my head. I had hoped that my behavior had looked more natural than it had felt, that perhaps just by following the steps, the dance would begin to feel natural.

Clearly, not so much.

She continued, "Your smiles haven't reached your eyes."

_Goddamn it._

Stubbornly, I stretched my calves and avoided her eyes. "You're nuts, Ali. I'm doing exactly what you said to do. I'm opening my mind, trying new things…" I felt my confidence wavering. "I made a commitment to myself last week, Alice. That I would stop lying to myself, stop denying and twisting myself up into knots trying to hide from the truth… that I do need to do something. And I am! I am doing my best…" I watched as I dug at the damp grass with my pinkie finger, struggling to convince her that I was doing the right thing. "There's blind, hopeless optimism, and then there's reality. I'm just being real. Besides, this week I've been doing better…"

"Sure." Alice leaned down to catch my eyes. "You're going through the motions… but you aren't happy. I can't see how you are at work, but I wonder if you're different there? You aren't _feeling_, Bella. You were for a minute there, but you aren't now."

The wind ruffled my wet hair. The clouds above us looked dark, petulant as I felt.

"I'm not hollow," I said through clenched teeth.

"What are you?"

"Scared." The word was out of my mouth before I could think: the answer was automatic, and _god help me_, true.

"Fuck me, Alice." I closed my eyes, and tried to think about anything other than the crushing defeat that was slowly beginning to press down upon my chest. "This whole week I've been trying to open my eyes, loosen up… but it's still not right. I tell myself that I just need to keep moving, and it will all work out…" My words were tense, pulled tightly, threatening to snap like a rubber band across my skin.

"Bella, I don't even knows what that means, and I doubt you do either." _Ouch_. "Two weeks ago you were smiling and blushing… we got you to _dance,_ for fucksake! But this week, you're back to trying to control everything. Why? What happened?"

"Alice," my voice had a slight desperate edge to it. "Leave this alone. Can't I just try this for a little bit now? Let me do this slowly. I'm trying to… _wake up_, as you put it… and it's hard, but I _can_ do it, my way." I lifted my chin, trying in vain to convey conviction.

"What, Bella? Try to avoid the one thing, the one _person_ that is actually making you feel?" She shook her head. "_Your way_ is trying to become another person. _Your way _is trading one mask for another. But you have to realize: _You can't be two people_. You're one person… one amazing, capable person… splitting yourself in two, to try and avoid living the life you have… That's not gonna work, kid."

"He thinks of me as 'Ms. Swan.' " The stupid, pathetic words escaped my lips, and I instantly wished I could reach out and snatch them back from Alice's ears.

"Who?" She narrowed her eyes. "Edward?"

I held my breath, and my shoulders sagged under the weight of my confession. "At the bar. I was flirting with him, Ali. Flirting like an idiot. It feels so good when I'm close to him, I can't think or talk or remember to breathe… but the truth is that around him I feel more like me than I do when I am alone, and it's frightening…" The words tumbled out of my mouth, "…and I drank his beer and jacked off the glass stem and all he talked about was work and he called me Ms. Swan."

I halted my verbal assault and peered at her, desperation and confusion burning my throat. Poor Alice looked utterly confused, sad, surprised.

_Yeah. Me, too._

"I'm just a co-worker to him." I explained quietly. "And you know what? He's right. That's what I am. What I need to be… because clearly, I have some other issues that I need to address. _That's_ what I have been worrying about… what I have influence over." _Not some marble statue with malachite eyes, who I have no business worrying about._

I picked at green blades, looking anywhere but her expressive face. I laughed humorlessly. "Besides, he's probably fucking that dumb blonde bitch Jessica." I ignored the senseless clenching in my chest. My body was weakened from the run, my mind weakened from the strain of my denial, my heart weakened from the distance between myself and this stupid, false connection I had made up between him and I. "But I'll get better. I just need to try harder."

"Jesus Christ, Bella." Alice threw her hands up in the air. "_Stop it_. Do you hear yourself? You _aren't_ a fucking Vulcan. You can have fun, and laugh, and cry, and feel passion." I was momentarily stunned by her nerdy, but poignant analogy. "You're allowed… no, in fact, you are fucking _obligated_ to experience those things… because you're a human. One _whole_ human, not two who happen to cohabitate in the same body… and quite a phenomenal body, I might add, that's being wasted."

Her face softened as she took in my defeated, shocked face. "Bells, I love you. And I want you to be happy, but this…" she gestured to me, her small hands fluttering, "this isn't happiness. You think you're loosening up, but really, you're still just compartmentalizing. Putting things in nice, neat little boxes. You've certainly done that to Edward."

Hot, foggy shame rushed into my lungs. I hung my head. She was right. So fucking, painfully right.

_I'm crazy. _I thought miserably_. I can't even _pretend_ to be a normal person convincingly. _

"You could sign up for a hundred activities… but if your heart is locked away, you'll never enjoy any of it."

I hated that she was right. Hated it.

She suddenly slapped the ground with her hand, and it thudded heavily on the grass. I jumped, raising my head in surprise.

"And give Edward a fucking chance, would you?" My eyes widened. "He only knows you from work… What _else_ was he supposed to call you? Can't you acknowledge that he was _trying_ to talk with you? Did you expect him to just know that you love classic novels? That you hate eggplant? That you say very interesting things in your sleep?" She wiggled her eyebrows. I couldn't help but laugh, disappointment still souring my tongue. "No, he doesn't know any of that. Yet. Those are things that you find out when you _get to know_ someone."

She cocked her head, eyes all innocent and sincere and devotion. "Do you want him to know you?"

I stayed silent. She waited.

_But, what about my resolution? To only worry about what is realistic…_

_Read: only think about what you can control,_ a voice that sounded a lot like Alice's said in the back of my mind.

The internal battle raged on.

_It's all horseshit._ In a moment of rare, blinding and completely inner-honesty, a small voice thought: _I'm scared. I want him, I want to get to know him, and I don't think I can because I'm nervous and awkward and unworthy of love. But that doesn't stop me from wanting him... nothing apparently can stop me from desiring him._

I nodded weakly.

"So… go get to know him."

I flopped back on the cool grass in defeat, staring at the gray, vibrating sky. Her rightness was cruel, because I insisted on making simple things so complicated, so twisted that they vaguely resembled the original circumstances.

Regret rose in my throat, acidic and hot bile.

"Ali…" I whispered. "I was so distant this week. I barely looked at him." _And it almost killed me._

I knew he had been watching at me. I could feel him… but I hadn't dared interact with him other than a hesitant hello. I couldn't give him anymore if I wanted to stay away… I guess I was trying to make it easier for both of us and not allow this connection to persist, to continue insinuating itself into my dreams, sleeping and waking.

Then he wouldn't be subjected to my particular brand of crazy.

"I don't know if he will even want to talk to me now," I finished miserably.

"Bella." Alice leaned over and gently took my hand, warm against the cold air. "I saw the way he looks at you… all the time. From across the bar - when your back was turned - he couldn't keep his eyes off of you when you were dancing. Trust me: he still wants to talk with you."

She leapt up and spun gracefully, leaving me unsure if I should laugh or hate myself or keep denying whatever dumb shit popped into my head. I didn't know. I just didn't know.

"So cowgirl up, ho. Stop being weird and masochistic and irrational. And race me home."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

_Wednesday._

"Yes, of course, Carlisle, I absolutely will."

Carlisle Cullen and I were finishing a phone meeting regarding the project. He was very pleased with the progress we were making, and had nothing but praise for me and Swan Consulting as a whole. Edward had been out of the office all day on some ongoing computer emergency, but he had emailed me earlier today to update me on a networking project to update Carlisle. Carlisle had thanked me and promised to take us both out to lunch as soon as possible so we could all catch up. I could hear the smile on his kind face; he really was a wonderful man.

Unfortunately, I had yet to find an opportunity to speak directly with Edward. I had seen him over the last three days, acknowledged him with more enthusiasm then I had shown the previous week, but had no chance for direct interaction. Every day that went by without words passing between us, I felt more and more frantic. My talk with Alice had given me a lot to think about, but mostly it had instilled something in me that I hadn't felt before with Edward.

A sense of urgency.

I had just been so preoccupied with pushing him away. I had been almost obsessive in my haste to make sure that he wasn't allowed within the walls that I had built for myself… I hadn't even considered what I would do if he were no longer there to push away. If I actually succeeded in convincing him I was unapproachable and he walked away from me, and unknowingly took with him his little light from my life…

I realized now that I truly didn't want that. I didn't know what I wanted specifically… but it definitely wasn't him away.

And, I had no fucking clue what I would say to him when we did speak.

_Who _are_ you, and what have you done with Bella Swan? _

Isabella grumbled and shook her head at me.

"Absolutely, I will. Please give my love to Esme. Talk to you soon."

My hand hadn't yet left the phone before I heard footsteps approaching my desk.

"On a first name basis with the Cullens, Isabella?"

I was shocked; this was his first visit to me in weeks, since our awkward interaction at the bar. Cocky blue eyes blinked down at me. "I thought that wasn't your style." Mike's tie was nautical-themed and infuriating. His ever-present smirk was there, but in his eyes… something was lurking behind the innocuous baby blue, a menacing touch of red, perhaps anger. His proximity made my skin crawl, but I forced myself to keep his gaze.

And suddenly, I was very, very tired of Mike's invasions of privacy, his unsolicited advice and uninvited touches, his arrogance and his seeming _need_ to talk down to me. After some coaching from Alice over the past few days, I was ready to take the next step in my reintroduction to the world… why not kill two birds with one stone?

For once, I was grateful for Edward's absence. I didn't want to do this in front of him.

"Only with certain people, Mr. Newton."

Emmett passed by my desk right then, and before I could convince myself not to, I deliberately leaned around Mike and spoke loudly.

"Emmett."

He stopped dead in his tracks and slowly turned his large frame to look down at me, the confusion clearly written on his features.

"Thank you for all your help with my Goldwater account. You were great." I smiled at him.

"Thank you… Ms. Swan?" He smiled back at me, uncertain.

"Please," I took a deep breath, "call me Bella."

The words hung heavy in the air. Mike's smirk immediately fell off his face and his eyes bugged out of his head, practically lying on his red cheeks. Emmett's wide grin threatened to escape from the sides of his face.

"Thank you… Bella." I watched him go. Mike watched me.

I turned back toward my visitor. "Is there anything else, Mr. Newton?"

He glared down at me, eyes icy blue points. His jaw muscles clenched and unclenched, and his knuckles were white with pressure.

"No, Isabella, nothing else."

As he walked back to his desk, the triumph I should have felt was thinned by a feeling of uneasiness; Mike Newton was persistent, but I really hoped that his deal with me was over. For good.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

_Thursday._

Dr. Jenks was having a very bad day. His new baby was already dealing with his first case of the sniffles, resulting in a sleepless night for the young doctor. Then, first thing this morning, he had been graced with a surprise inspection by an Osha representative. His temporary college student receptionist was not able to locate the emergency eye wash kit, resulting in a fine and the need to schedule an Osha-compliance class. To add insult to injury, he had received a letter from the IRS: surprise! He was being randomly audited.

I had called Alice and told her I was going to be late, so I wouldn't be able to help with the vegetable lasagna recipe was had planned. I explained that there was a legitimate emergency with a client that I needed to address, and to please still make the lasagna with Jasper. She put up a slight fuss, but ultimately understood and promised to make Jazz save me some. I couldn't help but smile and wonder if she were secretly excited for a little privacy with Jasper... I certainly wouldn't blame her.

By 7pm, I was still glued to my desk, staring at my glowing computer screen. Dr. Jenks was important to me, and I was determined to go through his financial records myself tonight so I could assure him first thing tomorrow that the audit would go smoothly. Audits sounded scary, but I kept his records squeaky clean and knew he had nothing to worry about. I wanted him to concentrate on his son, not his records. That's what he paid me for.

Oddly enough, I was not alone tonight. Of all people, Jessica was spending this late evening with me. She had deliberately dragged a report compilation project out all day, only to discover at 5pm that she had carelessly left out a page smack in the middle of the collated packet. The assignment absolutely needed to be done by tomorrow morning, so there she sat at her desk, miserable, pouting and re-stapling.

And, of course, Edward was also there. The emergency call he had been on yesterday had apparently been a total mess and was just wrapping up today. I felt terrible for him; he was hunched over his keyboard, his eyebrows knit together. His slumped posture and furrowed brow broadcasted his obvious exhaustion; I could _feel_ his tension crawling under my own skin. I wanted to help him, but I didn't know what to do, or even how to offer. I couldn't help but want to run my hands up his curved spine, flat palms kneading hard muscle, to splay my hands between his shoulder blades and feel him breathe, make him relax…

Mostly, though, I just wanted to hear his voice. I was filled with nervous energy, and I wanted to see if his resonance still had the same calming effect over me after nearly a week of not speaking.

I half hoped it didn't… the other half desperately hoped it did.

He suddenly leaned back in his seat and my attention shifted completely to him. He stared at the ceiling, both hands tangled deep into his hair, bronze locks twisted in crazy directions. His movement caught Jessica's attention also, as she turned her head to look at him, openly gawking. I fought the urge to go put a staple in her stupid fake-tanned forehead.

_He looks so tired_, I thought sadly. He brought his hands down from his tresses and rubbed his face; I heard his hands rasp against his shadowy stubble across the expanse of the room. My hand twitched. I wanted to lay my palm against his hand, cover his long fingers and pull gently, expose his beautiful face and smooth away the tension lines.

Then Edward dropped his hands and looked right at me. He gave me a weary smile, and my heart sputtered. I smiled back, tentatively.

The silence of the room was shattered into a million pieces by impossibly loud music, and I realized in absolute horror that it was coming from my purse.

I had forgotten to put my iPhone on vibrate, and I remembered now, with great distress, that Alice had been playing with my phone last night and had declared my standard ringtone "boring." She had looked through my music, and I vaguely remember her mentioning that she had picked a new ringtone for me.

_Oh, fuck me sideways!_

I fumbled and bumbled with the bag, digging desperately, but the stupid song just screamed on and on and on:

_The apple now is sweet  
Oh much sweeter than it ought to be  
Another little bite  
I don't think there is much hope for me  
The sweat beneath her brow  
Travels all the way  
An' headin' south  
This bleedin' heart's cryin'  
Cause there's no way out_

Well swing a little more, little more o'er the merry-o  
Swing a little more, a little more next to me …

_How long is this fucking song?_ After what felt like a fucking hour, I finally managed to mute the stupid device.

Following the blaring Celtic punk music, the quiet was now completely deafening. I looked up apologetically. Jessica was, of course, glaring at me with unfiltered disgust, but Edward… he was now grinning, his eyebrows arched high on his forehead. He looked perkier than he did a moment ago.

I almost sighed; the electricity was definitely still there, snapping between us.

Edward stood, and my stuttering heart froze in mid-beat. He unfolded his long legs, bringing himself up to his full height and walked slowly over to my desk.

"Flogging Molly?"

My mouth was dry, and I struggled to speak like a human being should.

I nodded. "Yes. My… my roommate's choice for my new ringtone, apparently."

Edward chuckled. "Wow. I did not expect that." He ran his hand through his hair again; closer up, I could see that his eyes were tired and red. He squinted at me. "But I guess there's a lot I don't know about you."

The distance between us was thick, laced with unspoken sentiment. I didn't care that Jessica was staring a hole in Edward's back… I had to talk to him. _Now or never._ I opened my mouth.

"I wanted to apologize for…"

"Listen, about the other night…"

We both stopped and laughed, the sounds skittish, circling one another. Battering his hair with his hand, he started again.

"I'll start, if you don't mind." He smiled. "About that night at the bar… I really am sorry. I didn't mean to upset you.

I shook my head emphatically. "No, you have nothing to be sorry about." I felt my face beginning to flush, but I ignored it and pressed on. "I was just… really tired. I barely remember what I said, or what happened. Please don't think about it again." I gave him a smile, but it wasn't real and it felt wrong showing it to him. I hoped I sounded convincing.

Edward cocked his head, looked at me, his eyes sweeping my face. I knew… I knew that somehow he could see right though me. I felt my smile falter slightly. He finally spoke.

"No, you were fine. More than fine, actually." He shook his head, looking almost sheepish. "I was a little… awkward. Work ethic probably wasn't the most suave of subjects." He chuckled, and it came from deep in his chest, rich and resonating, swirling like music.

"_You_ were awkward?" I brushed my bangs back off my forehead, and to my chagrin his eyes followed my hands. I bit my lip sharply and admitted weakly, "I have pretty much written the book on awkward lately."

It felt a little good to admit some small piece of my uncertainty with him. It felt… honest. Right.

Edward stared into my eyes, and I felt the flame burn hotter in my chest. Electricity snapped, making my breath puff quick from my parted lips.

"I just…" He paused. "I just wanted to talk to you. But when I got up there to the bar and saw you standing there… I realized that I didn't know what to say." He rubbed the back of his neck.

"Truth be told, Ms. Swan… that happens to me frequently. Around you."

The flame in my chest flared bright white, causing a soft gasp.

"Me too." My lips barely moved, but he heard me.

I looked down at my hands for a moment, hiding from my own unexpected words. I was feeling overwhelmed, exhilarated, shocked. This is not what I envisioned this conversation to be like. I thought we might make small talk about work, briefly touch on what happened at the bar, and then go on to something about the Cullen account. We were co-workers. This was venturing into unethical territory, unprofessional and dangerous. After my past week of misguided attention, I didn't expect him to even really want to speak with me, let alone this persisting intensity back so immediately… and yet, I wasn't really that surprised that it was still there. It was… a fact. Organic. It just was.

Rational or not, right or wrong… Edward Masen had changed me, my cellular makeup, my atomic structure. He made me different by his mere existence, and I really had no choice but to surrender.

"It wasn't what I really wanted to say to you."

I slowly lifted my eyes back to his. The buzz between us was growing, swelling and humming, becoming more intense by the second. I suddenly realized that I was unconsciously leaning toward him, drinking in his presence, trying to close millimeters if it brought me closer… and he was mirroring my posture.

"What did you want to say to me?" I asked softly. The arrangement of words sounded pitifully like a plea, but I was too high off him to care.

He was silent for a few pregnant, agonizing seconds. I was momentarily struck with sharp panic: did he feel pressured? I wasn't trying to push him to say anything… I mean, I didn't even know what I _wanted_ him to say. _Oh god…_ Doubt spun in my head like a whirling dervish, a tornado rotating, gathering strength, growing louder and louder by the second…

Edward saved me by laughing again, the sound rolling along my skin. "I guess I have no idea. But it wasn't about work, that's for sure." I laughed too, feeling giddy, light, absurdly young. Edward's mouth formed a lopsided smile, and I felt my knees grow watery beneath my desk. "I just didn't know if it would be okay, to… really talk to you. Get to know you." His eyes held mine fully.

"Would that be okay, Ms. Swan? May I try to get to know you?"

My resolve teetered on the edge of a knife. One side, I saw who I was. Who I had _made_ myself. Driven and focused, my whole life plotted out before me in linear lines. Lonely and successful. Empty and safe.

The other side… it was unclear. I couldn't see what was next, couldn't control where I was headed. But it was warm there, chaotic and exciting and humid. Delicious unpredictability. Intoxicating possibilities. There were sights and sounds there, and colors, and flavors… green mint and copper, burnt sugar and smoky leather…

And as this ludicrous battle was raging in my head, he stood there silently, patiently, completely ignorant to my self-imposed torture. Or maybe completely cognizant.

I held my breath. I decided.

"Yes."

He smiled at the floor before looking at me from underneath his long, thick eyelashes. I wrestled with the urge to reach out and touch them, to run my fingertips along his cheekbone and ghost the copper hairs that lay there, soft and feathery.

"Then fair warning." He raised an eyebrow. "My first question will be a follow up regarding your taste in music."

"Well!" Jessica's voice rang out, the cacophony of her shrill sounds destroying the peaceful calm. Edward and I both turned toward her, startled.

"I'm all done!" She gathered her bag and coat and stood. Her breasts jiggled obscenely in her tight pink sweater. "Edward, would you mind terribly walking me to my car, please?"

Edward slowly turned back to me. He looked dazed.

"I…" He shook his head slowly. "Are you all done, Ms. Swan? Are you ready to leave?"

I glanced over his shoulder at Jessica. She was glaring at me, her lower lip jutting out in a ridiculous pout. Instinctually, my hands balled into fists.

"No, I'm not, unfortunately."

"I would wait for you."

His words curled into my ears, settled in my fluttering heart.

"I have no idea how much longer I am going to take." My words were heavy, laden with an unintentional confessions. His eyes never left mine. "But I'll be fine, really."

"I have no doubt you'll be fine, I just want to make sure that you're taken care of." Again, I was overcome by… something. Something warm.

"Oh, she'll be okay, won't you Ms. Swan?" Jessica smiled wickedly. "You're here so late most nights anyway, I'm sure you're quite used to being alone."

I thought I saw Edward's eyes tighten in the corners, but his stare didn't waver. I didn't even acknowledge her.

"The easiest thing for you to do would probably be to go." I cocked an eyebrow; his forehead furrowed. I hated seeing that tension on his face. "Seriously, go." My throat tightened at the fact that I was trying to convince him to go with the whore, but I saw no other way. I almost felt as if we'd been caught doing something wrong, and Jessica had the potential to make a scene. I smiled at him, lips tight.

Edward looked back at Jessica, who flashed him a brilliant, toothy smile. As soon as he turned back to me, her scowl snapped back in to place.

He laid his hands flat on my desk and leaned over toward me. I inhaled deeply, smelling him, tasting him on the tip of my tongue. He looked conflicted, full… his eyes wandered back and forth between mine. I bit my lip, keeping confessions and irrevocable actions tightly at bay.

"Will I see you tomorrow night, at the New Moon?" His breath caressed my face, and I shivered. I was momentarily embarrassed, hoping he didn't catch my movement.

Right then, I couldn't refuse him anything. I simply nodded.

He straightened up. "Good." He grabbed his coat and walked over to Jessica, who promptly hooked her arm through his hard forearm and pressed her body up against his side. She threw a pointed look over her shoulder directly at me. She was smiling.

"Goodnight!" I called, trying to sound casual. But when the elevator door clanged shut in front of them, I picked up a pencil that was sitting next to me. Somehow, it ended up snapped in two.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

_Friday_.

The next night, I was sitting with Alice and Jasper, feeling nice and relaxed after three shots of whatever Alice had picked out for me. As I was finishing my scotch and water I filled Jasper in about what was happening with the Cullens. I told him about how pleased Carlisle had said Esme would be about his new set of drawings.

I was also keeping one eye on Edward, who was playing pool in the back of the room with Emmett. Jessica, who lately seemed to be omnipresent, was lurking around the table with two of her clones, giggling and ogling the men.

I was definitely losing the battle. Quite literally, I couldn't keep my eyes off of him. He looked… different. He had changed from his work clothes into a tight black t-shirt over dark blue jeans, black belt and a simple leather cuff on his wrist. And, god help me, I thought I could see color licking his skin, lines and swirls of black and blue snaking around his right bicep. I was anxious to see if he would try and talk to me tonight, so I could get a closer look at his bare arms, to see if it was in fact ink on his skin or just my own wishful fantasies.

I forced myself to look back at Jasper.

"I'm simply the shit, Bella. What can I say?" Jazz leaned back and put his hands behind his head. He himself was a sight to behold in skintight denim jeans, knee-high black riding boots and a black and white striped shirt. He looked like a struggling artist pirate. He even had a red bandana tied around his neck.

Alice rolled her eyes at him. "So Bella, I know that your contract with the Cullens is for three months initially…" she took a sip of drink thoughtfully. "But what happens after their construction division is all finished expanding? Is there anything else that that they would want from Swan Consulting, or is that it?"

I didn't answer her immediately. I took a sip of my scotch and cleared my throat. "Yes, actually."

"Oh, good for you. What are they interested in?"

"Me."

Alice and Jasper both set down their drinks in unison. "What do you mean?" he asked.

I fingered the rim of my glass as I told Alice and Jasper about Carlisle's non-offer. While I spoke, they both grinned wider and wider, shooting each other shocked looks. When I finished, Alice launched herself into my lap.

"Bella! That is fucking fantastic!" She wrapped her arms around my neck. We rocked dangerously back in the chair, but Jasper reached out nonchalantly to ground us. Alice hopped up and bounced, clapping her hands with abandon. "I'm going to buy you another shot, okay? In celebration!" She whirled around, but I caught her wrist.

"Whoa there, Hurricane Ali. There's no need for that." She furrowed her eyebrows. "First of all, he didn't _actually_ offer anything. He implied he _might_ offer something, if all goes well." Alice started to say something, but I barreled on through her interruption. "And second, even if he did offer, it's not like I could accept the position."

She froze. Her face was incredulous, but it was Jasper that spoke.

"Why the _fuck_ not?"

I turned to him. "How could I, Jazz? I already have a career. Clients. A path. A name…"

"Bella!" Alice grabbed my shoulders. "_This_ is what you've been waiting for! The _thing_! The Cullen account was just a start… this is your chance to claim your own life, independent of your family business and your father…" She closed her eyes tightly. "I was _so_ right, you life really is about to change…"

She took a look at me and started to laugh. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry. Un-angryify your face, I'm done. For _now_." She could always make me laugh, even when I was pissed. "I'm still going to buy shots. 'Cause I like to party."

She was back shortly with three tequila poppers, and we each contributed a toast.

"To friendship!" Alice cried.

"To fear!" I contributed.

"To antibiotics!" Jasper shrugged. "What? Louie Pasteur was a genius. I think it's toast-worthy."

As he and Alice laughed together, I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes. My brain was beginning to get fuzzy, and I enjoyed a moment of mental solitude. I was surrounded by sounds and smells, and I took them all in, quietly reflecting. I wiggled my toes in my silver flats and ran my hands along textured fabric of my jeans; they were skinny and tight, and I could feel my thigh muscles outlined under the material.

The song was just changing on the jukebox. At the opening notes, my swimming brain thought lazily, _Oh, I love this song_. However, when the lyrics kicked in, a connection was made and my eyes snapped open.

_Her breath began to speak  
As she stood right in front of me  
The colour of her eyes  
Were the colour of insanity  
Crushed beneath her wave  
Like a ship, I could not reach her shore  
We're all just dancers on the Devil's Dance Floor…_

I was on my feet before I knew what I was doing.

"Excuse me a minute, guys."

A moment later, I stood in front of the jukebox pretending to look at the songs.

_What am I doing??_

And then he was there. I ducked my head and hid my smile.

"They do not disappoint with their music selection. A fairly decent selection of punk rock... They had your ring tone."

"Impressive." I steadied my hand, willing it not to quake in front of him. I was buzzing, scared… I was alive. I begged Bella to be present during this encounter, not the walking automaton that was Ms. Swan.

He moved next to me and looked down at the jukebox catalog behind the glass. I could see both of our reflections in the shiny surface, and I stole a glance. My eyes were sparkling, my cheeks flushed, but for the most part I looked composed. I found that I couldn't stop staring at his mouth. I wanted to bite it, nibble along the full pink satin ribbon of skin, suck the flesh at the corners of his mouth.

His eyes traveled over the names in front of him. "There are some glaring omissions to their punk library, obviously." His tone was open-ended, and I thought I saw his gaze flicker toward me before quickly aiming downward again. Like he was… sizing me up. Challenging me.

I raised one eyebrow surreptitiously. _Is he trying to play with me? _For once, I was up for it.

"The Clash, of course." His face was illuminated by the neon lights as he turned his head slightly toward me. "No Sex Pistols, either. What self-respecting jukebox doesn't have any Johnny Rotten? And they only have one song by the Ramones, which is clearly unacceptable." He was staring at me fully now, his eyes sparkling. That was more than I had ever said to him, regarding work or anything else. I wondered if he even knew I _could_ say a complete paragraph.

_Well, I'm going to hell now, why stop there…_Adrenaline pushed through me, and my mouth blabbed on. "Of course, I wouldn't really expect them to have some of my favorites like The Stimulators, The Misfits, or the New York Dolls. They do have The Kinks, though, which is surprising."

Edward was silent. My searing blush was probably made worse by the neon lights. _Oh shit…_ Perhaps he _hadn't_ been baiting me for my random punk music knowledge, as I thought be had been… In that case, I sounded like a know-it-all douchebag. _Awesome_.

The nervous feeling was abated the minute I was rewarded with my favorite crooked grin.

Liquid courage coursed through my veins, and for once I refused to listen to the screaming voice in my head. I tried to stay causal as my trembling fingers flipped through the plastic pages. "So was that spontaneous, or was it my first music-related question?"

His long, lean body pressed against the jukebox, facing me. His expression was suddenly both amused and serious.

"It might have been planned." His voice was low and slightly husky, and my nipples pebbled instantly as if he'd touched them instead of just teased me with his tone. The shirt I was wearing was a simple charcoal cotton, three quarter sleeves and gold stitching, but shoulder blades were bare. I hoped he didn't notice the goosebumps suddenly sprinkled across my exposed skin.

I turned away from the jukebox and faced him. I felt bold, empowered. His long arms were crossed in front of him, and his smile playful. I saw color radiating from below the sleeve of his black t-shirt, twisting up to hide under the cloth. I tried desperately not to drool. I fucking loved tattoos.

I raised my eyebrows. "Well, if you _do_ think of a real question for me, I'll be right back."

As I walked past him, I gently brushed his shoulder. My skin sang where it came in contact with his bulk. Intoxicating. Addicting. I craved more.

I didn't look back as I strode over to the bathroom. I thought I felt a certain swagger in my step, and I might have swung my hips a little more than normal.

Pushing open the door, I faltered only momentarily when I saw Jessica and her friends crowding around the mirror, shellacking their orange faces with a few more layers of makeup. Her eyes narrowed in her reflection, but I didn't miss a beat. I was high from my talk with Edward, brave and untouchable. I was just buzzed enough from my scotch to feel pretty damn good, but I was definitely still clear and alert. Right now, Jessica Stanley was just about the least important person in the world to me.

I locked the stall door and tried desperately to hurry up. My heart was racing time to get me back out there, to his side, where we might be able to tease a little more… I wondered what his thoughts on who his vital punk bands were…

"So like I was saying, you should have _heard_ the things he was saying to me last night." Jessica's voice echoed off the tile walls. "He is fucking_ kinky_, that man. And the things he can do with that mouth… oh my god." Her friends giggled, and the sounds bounced off the walls and assaulted my ears. I listened, trapped. My breathing was coming a little faster now, my hands clenching in my lap.

_She could be talking about anyone._

Jessica's piercing voice continued, "And we have _big_ plans tonight, too. We're just making an appearance here before we take off and go back to my place." Her laugh was harsh, hurtful. "He pities some people in the office, and he wanted to throw them a bone and say hello. He's almost done with his game with Emmett, and then we're gone." I heard the clipped snap of a compact closing. "Yup, Edward Masen and I are going to have a loooong night tonight."

Their laughter trailed away and I heard the bathroom door slam shut, leaving me alone and trembling.

I pressed my face into my clammy palms. In that moment, I hated Jessica more than I had ever hated anyone in my life. I hated that she'd said his full name, and gossiped about him in a dirty bathroom in a seedy bar. I hated that she'd admitted that something happened between them last night, after he and I had shared our… moment. _Or not, apparently._ I hated that she was going to get to take him home, probably have him in her bed, and that her pillow was going to smell like him…

But mostly, I hated her for ruining everything for me. Again. I was so tired of feeling good and then being shit on, only to be convinced to try it again… and get kicked in the head once more.

I stood in front of the mirror and appraised my reflection. I looked fine from the outside, great even; my cheeks were flushed with color, lips full and red, eyes dark and smoky. I had let Alice put more makeup on me than I was used to, a gesture that felt brave at the time but now made me look and feel even more brainless. But my eyes… they weren't sparkling anymore. They were flat and defeated, like wet mud framed in a fringe of chestnut brown.

Sighing heavily, I shook my head. _I shouldn't even be surprised. He's wonderful and friendly and well liked. I'm_…

_I'm Ms. Swan._

I felt very, very stupid for what I had let myself do tonight. What I was ready to go do… to go out there, to put on a show for everyone. To act like a person. I was so tired of second-guessing myself… I just want to stop thinking. I wanted to go home.

I was way too tired to even beat myself up now. I'd save it for tomorrow morning.

Alice was startled by my gentle touch to her shoulder. She took one look at my expression and rotated her whole body in her seat to face me. "What happened? What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Something. Alice, Jasper, I'm so sorry… I think I'm just going to go home." I didn't bother with an excuse; I just leaned over and picked up my purse. I didn't dare look up, as Edward was probably already being accosted by Jessica, who was more than likely trying to get him to leave early with her. I couldn't watch that happen.

I shook my head, trying to clear the thought out of my head. _Useless thinking. He wasn't even real to me yet._ Later, not now. I'd punish myself later.

Alice frowned. "Running away again, huh?"

"Ali, I don't need…"

She waved her hand. "I'm sorry, babe. That was uncalled for. No need to explain. I'll see you at home, okay? Call me if you need me." She gave me a smile, but her eyes were sad and disappointed. Jasper reached up and gave me a tight hug, but his face wore an identical expression to Alice.

I nodded. "I'll talk to you later, guys. I promise."

I practically ran and pushed my way out into the cool night air. It was actually a beautiful night, clear and crisp. Alice hadn't brought me a jacket and I'd left mine at the office and of course, there were no taxis waiting directly outside tonight, so I wrapped my hands around my arms and rubbed, as if I could brush the chill and shame from my skin.

_This is part of my punishment_, I thought bitterly. _I'm three for three on freaking out and leaving this bar, like a psychopath. Way to try. _The friction did little to stave off the cold; I shifted from leg to leg and willed my teeth not to chatter.

"Leaving so soon?"

I stiffened, embarrassed that he had caught me. I saw him out of the corner of my eye, and _oh no,_ he had put on a tight leather jacket. Wild hair and sexy smile and leather. _God help me._ My chest tightened and my cheeks were hot against the cold night air.

"Yes, I'm going to go home. I don't want to be out too late."

"Are you sure? Because we haven't heard _Blitzkrieg Bop_ yet, and I was thinking we'd go listen to it and start a slamdance."

My throat constricted at his casual, easy humor. It was hurting me, and I was beginning to resent him for it.

He took a step closer to me, but I automatically countered with a step away, though his body radiated heat and it cut through the chill of the night.

"Besides," he said softly, his voice deep and soft, somehow turning me on despite my anguish, "you've already left here twice where you were too fast for me… but I caught you this time, and I have to at least try to convince you to stay."

I was struck my how cruel this conversation was. Why would he ask me to stay, only to leave with another woman at the end of the night? A woman like Jessica? My resolve hardened.

"Yes, I'm quite sure." My tone was clipped, distant. I saw him lean back slightly. "Anyway, I should let you get back to Jessica."

I turned and took an unsteady step away from him. I was just going to walk a little way down the block; there had to be a cab coming soon. I needed to get away, put some distance between us…

I swayed on my feet when he gently grabbed my upper arm.

I froze and looked up into his face. We were facing opposite directions, only inches separating our faces, joined by his hand at my arm. He looked down at me. My breath caught in my throat.

"What do you mean by that?"

I shrugged, but my voice was in danger of wavering and betraying my cool exterior. I trembled in the chilly night. "It's none of my business. I overheard Jessica in the bathroom, that's all."

His eyes narrowed. "What did she say?" His voice was tense, and I shuddered under his palm.

"Nothing much… she just… she mentioned your night together last night, and how you both had… uh, plans for later tonight as well." The pain was simmering in my gut, low and constant. I hoped I sounded calm.

Edward groaned. "Oh my _god_. She is impossible." He sounded frustrated as he rubbed his palm over his cheek, and I was rewarded with the brilliant rasp of fingertips over stubble. "I try to be polite to her, because I've heard rumors that Jessica can make office life… difficult for people who get on her shit list. I'm trying to avoid the drama, but she is making it increasingly difficult." He laughed, but it was humorless. "Jessica is… confused. Actually, delusional might be a better word."

I watched him, silent and swaying.

"Last night, when she asked me to walk her all the way to her car? Yeah, it was parked _at her apartment _building_, _seven blocks away from the office." He rolled his eyes. "She blabbed on and on about the most inane things… sex, money, clothes… I guess I must have grunted in all of the right places if she thinks we 'did' something. And tonight, she just would _not stop_ insisting that she and I go 'do' something. I keep trying every excuse I can think of to turn her down… She does this all the time. Her latest tactic is to ask me for rides, and then talk my ear off about her sexual escapades the entire was home. I guess it's supposed to be exciting." He shook his head. "It's disgusting."

My lungs felt looser, larger. I was finally able to draw a cold breath into my body. "Really?"

He nodded firmly, eyes not leaving mine. "I have no plans with Jessica tonight." He let go of my arm and promptly shoved both fists into the pockets of his black leather jacket. It fit him like a glove; leather, metal teeth and pure sex. He looked like James Dean, come back to taunt me with narrow hips and bedroom eyes. I wanted to slip underneath the black material, press myself him, to allow him to warm me up and slow my thrumming heart. But I couldn't do that.

"Good."

The rogue word escaped my mouth, quiet and breathy and completely unexpected. My eyes widened, and Edward smiled.

"Do you know what I was really doing last night?" His voice was soft now, and I had to lean in to hear him properly. I shook my head, the world swaying ever so slightly.

"I was busy replaying a conversation that I'd had late that evening, over and over. I was trying to convince myself that I'm not insane for feeling the way I do about a person who, before tonight, I had never spoken to about anything other than work. A woman I've never even called by her first name."

The cool night was still and silent, but between us it was on fire. We stood on the empty sidewalk, facing each other. I could feel every movement he made, taste every exhalation. My whole body shivered, and I knew it had nothing to do with the temperature.

I was at a complete loss for words. I didn't know what to say, or do, or remember how to speak. This was undeniably inappropriate… and I couldn't brush this off as something in passing, incidental. This was real, and it was happening. Right in front of me. I just stood noiselessly and stared, lost in the emerald depths.

He took another step toward me, and this time I did not take a retreating step backward. His heat blazed through me and made my knees turn to rubber. He searched me, and once again I felt like he was looking directly in to my mind, reading the secrets that were hidden there.

"If I asked you to come somewhere with me, right now, would you?"

I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think.

I nodded.

Edward smiled.

"Let's go."

* * *

**AGH! You thought she would get away AGAIN, huh? **

**Hands down, I have the best readers ever. EVER. It prolly sounds super cheeseball, but I read and cherish every single review, and I love you guys more than green onion dip. And I LOVE green onion dip, lemme tell ya.**

**Twilighted thread: http : //(dot) twilighted (dot) net/forum/viewtopic(dot)php?f=44&t=5250 I don't visit this as often as I should. **

**Twitter: ahlthyaddiction. I visit this way **_**more**_** than I should. **

**Thank you all again… I will work my ass off to get the next chapter up ASAP. **

**- ahealthyaddiction**


	10. Chapter 9

**Thank you to my beta, Dawn. She's pretty damn incredible.**

**And a HUGE thank you to Allison, who is absolutely brilliant. I'm so incredibly grateful for her thoughtful edits and observations. Thank you for helping me from halfway around the world, and for dealing with my intense love affair with ellipses. **

**I know I forget to say it sometimes, but I absolutely do not, nor will I ever, own Twilight. *sigh***

* * *

_Bella. Friday._

My thoughts were blank; snapping static and disbelief.

He did, in fact, _appear_ to be walking in front of me, bronzed and tall, head fixed straight ahead, shoulders close enough to brush with my fingertips. I trudged along with lead-filled feet; I felt like I was wading through mud. The chill on my skin was replaced with an intense tapping, raindrops pummeling a tin roof.

Numbly, I accepted that I was, indeed, truly following Edward Masen.

_What. The fuck. Am I doing._

I licked my lips, tasting the disjointed words lying there: thick, rich confusion, and the complete abandonment of all reason and logic. Isabella kicked and clawed at me from the recesses of my mind, screaming obscenities and words of discouragement, trying to pull me back, make me turn away from him, from possibility…

_This isn't you, Bella,_ the thoughts were a harsh hiss. _He going to see how crazy you really are. You know that, right? You should be alone, fucking alone like always, stop now…_

But fuck me, just the thought of his long back flexing under that fucking leather jacket was enough to ignore the silent screeching, to block the familiar flood of self-loathing that I felt rushing through my body. I tried to focus on Edward, who was leading me around the back of the bar. As we approached his car, my knees were shaking as I registered the muted click of the locking mechanism.

_This is ridiculous. _My whispered thoughts were in my voice now. Small and scared, defeated. Confused. _This is insane. This is impossible._

I struggled to keep my breathing quiet and my feet planted firmly where they were; I was close to wheezing hot panic into his back and breaking into a full-on sprint. Dangerously close.

When Edward finally turned to face me again, through my whirling confusion I was once again struck by him: his tousled hair, the keys dangling from his long fingers, his flushed cheeks against the cold night whose temperature I no longer felt. He was perfect, and I was splintered and I didn't understand how this was happening.

He opened the door for me, and I was exhilarated and terrified and unsure and a million other things I couldn't remember how to express. I hesitated in the neon light, the muscles in my legs tensed and coiled tight, ready to spring away…

But Edward just stood there, crooked smile inviting and warm, waiting for me: a pocket of calm, bathed in false light.

_That just… can't be happening. _

My shoulders sagged slightly, and I struggled to stay calm as I blinked and shook and stared at the dashboard.

_I should go. _

_I should go._

_I should just go now, please feet move, stop this before it starts…_

My decision was as unexpected as the feeling of my bare back sliding against his cold leather interior.

I jumped at the sound of the door closing, my spine rigid and my breathing way too loud.

As Edward walked around to the other side of the car, my eyes whipped up to the rearview mirror, hands fluttering like pale doves, smoothing my hair and rubbing the dark makeup underneath my eyelashes. My eyes were wide and wild, terrified, cheeks scarlet and splotchy in the false light.

_What am I doing? _

_In his fucking _car_? _

_Oh shit oh shit oh shit…_

My frenzied thoughts were interrupted by the driver's side door opening and Edward slipping gracefully into the seat. I quickly hid my hands in my lap, my fingers twisting into knots.

Surreptitiously, I glanced at his profile. I must have looked as chaotic as I felt, but Edward was still almost _too_ gorgeous in the dim light: calm, luminescent. I was struck by the newness of seeing him from this angle. In a car. In the dark. In jeans that made me want to personally thank Levi Strauss. Close enough to touch him…

Close enough to place both hands on his hard chest, to straddle him in his slick leather seat and claim his mouth for me, mine, for no one else…

_Oh no_, I silently moaned at my lack of discipline_._ My mind was swimming and I tried desperately to rein in my thoughts, to gain some semblance of control.

Edward looked at me, and my heart stuttered.

"Ready?"

_Not a chance._

I nodded.

My stomach dropped as he started the car and pulled out of the tiny back lot. My fingers fumbled, and I flinched at the sharp clack of the belt buckle. I desperately willed my tense muscles to relax. My stomach heaved, and I swallowed bile and fear and the urge to flee.

In a positively miraculous flash of intelligence, I slid my phone into my lap and sent Alice a text. My fingers felt too big, too clumsy, but I eventually managed to form the words:

_**Going… somewhere. Safe. Don't worry and don't wait up.**_

At the last second, I added_: _

_**With E.**_

Edward looked down at my hands as I quickly turned off my phone and slid it back into my purse. I tried to lean back into the seat, but my spine was refused to bend so I sat up straight, awkward and formal.

Edward's stereo had automatically turned on, breaking the silent interior of the automobile. A song continued in the middle of its play: it was piano music, classical and soft. _Debussy_, I recognized. I had performed a waltz to this in a ballroom competition in San Francisco when I was thirteen… we had taken first place that day, making us national champions.

_That would be a great story to tell him, Bells!_ I heard Alice's voice now, whispering animatedly into my ear. Even her imaginary voice was overly-excited. _Tell him about that time. How hard you worked, and how good it felt to win, how you laughed when your partner kissed you in front of everyone…_

I shut my eyes.

_Show him you're a human being… show _yourself_ you're a human being._

I sucked air deep into my lungs, tasting failure and palpable silence.

_Well, say _something_, for fucksake…_

But instead I sat stiffly, worrying at my lower lip with rough teeth and not truly seeing the world roll by.

The song faded into the thick air around us; the silence stuck to my skin like humidity. Thankfully the next song began, and familiar lyrics filled my ears:

_If you walk away, I'll walk away  
First tell me which road you will take  
I don't want to risk our paths crossing some day  
So you walk that way, I'll walk this way…_

"I love this song." The words slipped out of my mouth, sliding past my determination to remain silent and alert. I immediately hated myself.

_Shut up, you sound completely stupid...Oh god, I'm having impulse control problems already. Not good._

"Me, too." Edward replied. He surprised me when, a moment later, he began to softly sing.

_And the moon's laying low in the sky  
Forcing everything metal to shine  
And the sidewalk holds diamonds like the jewelry store case  
They argue walk this way, no, walk this way_

His rich voice flowed over me like warm water, bathing my stiff back ,washing clean my trembling knees and lips. Blood and full sound rushed under my skin, quick and copper, alcohol and hormones churning and mixing. I closed my eyes, completely wrapped in sensations: his radiating heat next to me, his voice caressing the skin of my collarbone, his smell surrounding me, filling me…

And before I realized what I was doing it, my small voice had left my mouth and hesitantly joined with his.

It was like the sound escaping from my body was alien, originating from some source other than my own throat… but sure enough, I felt hot breath passing over my own dry lips, giving proof of my recklessness. Edward didn't falter. He continued to croon the words, never leaving me alone in the melody. My voice was barely above a whisper and wasn't nearly as good as his, but I sang the warbling female part to his male lead, and our words twisted around each other, calling and responding, filling the confines around us.

Our voices tangled together as our bodies had done in my vivid dreams.

When the song died off, I swallowed hard and let the silence of the car surround me, punish me. Shame pricked at my skin.

_Did… did I… just fucking _sing_? _

_I am insane. Truly bat-shit crazy. _I wanted to apologize for my idiocy, to explain that I was just drunk and I would never have done that sober…

But suddenly, it occurred to me: _I_ would have sung with him sober. Bella loved to sing, and dance, and tell jokes and go on random adventures in the middle of the night. _Ms. Swan_ wouldn't have sung with him. In fact, she would have turned this incredible creature down back in front of the bar with the excuse that it wouldn't be appropriate – the same bar that she would _never_ have set foot in the first place. Instead, Ms. Swan would have gone home and run until sweat and shame seeped from her pores, exhausting any liquid reserves so there were none left for lonely tears.

But _Bella_ didn't do those things.

Maybe tonight… Bella would win.

"So… you like Bright Eyes."

There was no question mark in his sentence. I looked down at my apparently very interesting hands, not daring to meet his eyes. _Speak, Bella._

"Yes." _Quite the conversationalist._

Edward nodded. "That's a start. What else?"

_Guh? _My brain felt water-logged_. _I rubbed my damp palms on my jean-clad thighs. "What do you want to know?"

Edward shrugged. "Anything. Everything. I just…" He brought one hand up and tugged on his copper hair. "I just don't know much about you."

"You knew that I liked tea," I said quietly.

His mouth twitched again and I shook my head, cursing my stupid honesty.

A viscous, frustrated thought suddenly flooded my head. _Is this going to get easier?_

I wanted so badly to believe that this could work… that this was real. That _I _was real. However, a huge part of me was just waiting for the other shoe to drop: for the panic to take over, for my truths to be revealed and for him to see that I wasn't worth his attention, not even for the duration of one unexpected car ride.

"I assume there's more to you than tea." He smiled again.

_Jesus_. _Who the fuck am I?_

"Well, I like… I like being a consultant." The words were gravel, my mouth cotton and thread. "And… I enjoy working for Swan Consulting."

"Hmm," Edward hummed. He stared straight ahead, his face not betraying what his soft sound meant. I was oddly… ashamed.

_Is that all I am?_ I bit my lip. _Fucking_ _work? A name? A desk?_

_No._

"I like to run."

My breaths were high and shallow, at odds with his deep, even pulls. It was utterly pathetic that I was on the precipice of a panic attack from admitting such a casual fact about myself… but there I was, almost wheezing under the strain of trying to hold it together. I felt cracked open, split, edges peeling.

Edward turned and met my eyes, and my stomach flipped over in those twinkling emeralds. He was smiling broadly.

"You do? Me, too." He looked back out the windshield, his smile slowly killing me, and I was unspeakably grateful that my furious blush was hidden in the darkness.

_I know_, I thought. I shook my head and let out an embarrassingly loud, shaky sigh. I lowered my head, fingers relentlessly digging at the seam of my pants. I was struggling to remain coherent, to stay collected and calm and not even think about the possibility of having a panic attack in front of him...

"Are you okay?" Edward's words startled me, and I almost groaned.

_Clearly, no._

"Yes." I took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I'm just… I'm not used to this."

"Riding in a car?"

I looked at him from the corner of my eye, and his eyebrow was raised, an amused look on his face.

"No." I laid my hands flat on my legs, forbidding any further fidgeting. I felt a bit of the truth shift inside of me, swirl, splash out over the rim. "This. This whole… situation. Socializing at a bar. Spontaneity. Talking about myself."

"And why is that?"

I paused. Words were gathering on the tip of my tongue, but I had no idea what to tell him that wouldn't make me feel like a complete lunatic and/or make him want to kick me out of the moving car.

"I… I just don't think I should." My words felt thick, my speech halting. "I worry about people... assuming things. Judging me, I suppose. It's easier to stay quiet."

The corners of Edward's mouth tightened slightly, and I saw that his hands gripped the steering wheel, the skin stretching across his knuckles taut and white.

"You never have to worry about that around me," he said firmly.

And in a searing stab of awareness, I realized that I actually believed him.

_Oh god._

We continued driving in silence, but the quiet seemed to unravel more easily along the black asphalt. Though my palms were sweaty and I still fought to keep them from twisting in my lap, I noted with dull shock that I was no longer filled with fear or the tight guilt that I was doing something wrong.

I knew that it _could_ be the alcohol, this unexpected moment of peace… But fuck it felt good to sit next to him, and in that moment I refused to allow myself to think any more about it. If I let my doubts take root once again, I was liable to fling open the car door and attempt a tuck and roll escape.

Edward asked me if I was cold and flipped on the heater for me, despite the heavy jacket he was still wearing and silently, I appreciated his thoughtfulness. I stole glances at him whenever I could, studying his profile, not unlike a classic oil painting: the curve of his ears, that jaw line that haunted my dreams, the stark outline of his full lips under passing streetlights.

I doubted that I would ever be this close to him again, so I drank in his presence, his energy, memorizing every curve and angle.

The spirits in my system had made my brain slow down, and I was able to take in every detail about my immediate surroundings with sharp clarity. Edward kept thirty-three cents in his ashtray, and other than that the interior of his car was immaculately clean. He was a cautious driver, frequently checking his mirrors and never failing to hit the blinker. He kept his left hand on the wheel, but the right was resting lazily on the gearshift, thumb making idle circles. I clenched my own hands in response to his ministrations; god help me I could feel him tracing geometric shapes on me instead of that dark leather, the ghost of his digit tracing its elliptic pattern in my own skin.

My eyes flickered to his face, where they once again found wet pink flesh.

_Fuck. I'm staring at his lips like they owe me money_.

In my tumultuous condition, if I were to be caught gawking now I might actually die from shame. And it would be very embarrassing for me to die on Edward's immaculate interior.

Tearing my eyes away from him, I peered out the window into the night, finally noticing our surroundings. We were driving through an affluent neighborhood in East Seattle; there was an ornate wrought-iron fence running along the right of us that curved and disappeared into a cluster of thick trees up ahead.

"Where are we?" I finally asked, curiously. Edward just smiled.

We parked on a street, but it looked to be a rarely-used utility road. To the left of us were commercial buildings, bland nondescript boxes of beige and dark glass. To the right was the thick growth of trees: tall and full, an ominous backdrop.

He had my door opened before I could pull the handle. Biting my lip, I stepped out into the chilly night. I lifted my head and gasped, because I found myself just inches from him smiling face. A trickle of panic ran down my spine, and an irrational thought flooded my brain: I wanted to taste the air between us. I imagined it icy and sweet, perhaps like fat red raspberries, or creamy vanilla.

"Please follow me?" Edward asked softly. "I want to show you something."

I followed closely behind him as he led me into the trees. His scent drew me forward as effectively as the sight of his broad back.

_Fifteen minutes ago I was in a bar. Now I'm in the woods. This should be incredibly bizarre. _

But it wasn't.

I had no idea where we were. I was having trouble believing that I hadn't _demanded_ to know where we were, or where he was taking me. Rather, I was letting him lead me into the dark unknown, weaving between trees and night toward the wrought-iron fence we had followed in the car.

I was giving him… control.

There was a break in the fence on what looked like an access road, blocked by a low metal gate that was secured with a heavy chain and lock. Edward stopped in front of it, and I hovered below his right shoulder.

Without warning, Edward stopped and turned around. He stepped behind me and gently wrapped his big hands around my waist. I gasped and drew cold air deep into my lungs and reflexively brought my legs up as he effortlessly lifted me up and over the metal gate. When I touched the ground and stood on the other side, I looked back at him, dazed, my skin singing where his palms had been. A second later, Edward leapt gracefully and landed next to me. He gestured behind me.

Carefully, I turned to face the space around us.

And I gasped_. _

_Holy. Shit. _

_How did he know?_

We were standing in the left outfield of a huge baseball diamond.

My astonished gaze swept the field. This wasn't your neighborhood little league field, some dirt lot with a haphazard wooden backstop and metal bleachers. This was a _real_ baseball complex, with a vast expanse of manicured grass and tall, dark stadium lights. There were individual plastic seats in the stands and an elevated announcer's booth at the apex of the stadium, sitting high behind home plate. It was luxe, almost passing as professional; certainly not Safeco Park, but definitely Double A worthy, maybe even Triple A. The outfield was bordered by the wrought-iron fence, and beyond that were the dense trees we'd just come through, creating total isolation.

"Where are we?" I repeated, but this time my voice was smaller, far away even in my own ears.

"The Whitewater Country Club of Seattle's private baseball field," Edward responded. My face must have betrayed my confused thoughts, because he explained further.

"About a year ago, I helped some friends set up the network for this place. They gave us the obligatory tour, and we noticed this gate here was foolishly low…" I raised my eyebrows, and he cast his eyes to the ground and shrugged, his hand finding his hair and pulling gently. "Anyway, every once in a while my friends and I… ah, _borrow_ the facilities for a few hours at night. The security guard here is quite elderly and, fortunately for us, a little hard of hearing." His had slipped down to rub the back of his neck; my fingers twitched, jealous.

"I hope you don't mind," he smiled earnestly, and it was crooked and sweet and I almost sank to my knees on the damp grass, "but you're now an accomplice to breaking and entering."

My eyes swept the field as I took a few tentative steps deeper into the outfield. The sky was clear and full, with stars detailing in every square inch of the inky black canvas above me. I felt him trace my steps behind me.

"Why did you bring me here?" I said to the night.

Edward was silent. I could barely hear his breathing over the roaring of blood throbbing in my ears.

He finally said, very simply, "Because I love this place, and I wanted you to see it."

My muscles tensed as he took another step toward me. "Shit," Edward sighed. "I should have thought this through better. It's freezing, not to mention illegal, and the middle of the night…"

"It's perfect," I blurted unexpectedly. I turned around slowly to face him. He was watching me, his arms loosely at his sides. My brain sputtered and my mouth followed suit. "I love baseball. My father… he used to take me to baseball games when I was very little, before... It used to feel good…" I struggled to focus, to make my words coherent. I couldn't describe it, couldn't vocalize the longing, the joy, the raw… _feelings_ that he had stirred in me. I shook my head, took a deep breath. "This is great."

Edward walked past me, toward center field; I watched him move, graceful and lean, and hesitated. I had no expectations, no plans. For once, I wasn't thinking. I just followed my feet.

I trailed behind him, a timid ghost. I could still feel the stupid alcohol pushing through my veins. My steps, like my thoughts, were unstructured.

Edward stopped but I continued forward, walking a few more feet toward the infield, turning my half-bare back to him. I stood still and rubbed my hands against my arms, fighting the chill while enjoying the night air. I tipped my head backward and closed my eyes; I drew in a deep breath, letting the crisp atmosphere fill my lungs, smooth and unencumbered.

I nearly jumped when something heavy was placed on my shoulders, and I reflexively jerked backward. Edward's face appeared over my shoulder and he smiled apologetically as I lifted one hand to touch the heavy black leather that was now wrapped around me. His arms were almost bare, thick and smooth in the shadows, and I confirmed hints of reds and blues and purples and complex black lines winding up beneath the sleeve of his thin shirt on his left arm. He ran his hand through his hair once more; the muscles flexed and moved underneath his skin, blue veins tracing lines underneath taut skin. His forehead was furrowed, eyes dark.

"I should have noticed that you didn't have a jacket." His tone was frustrated. I realized suddenly that he was upset. "I'm really sorry. You must be miserable out here. Let's go back to the car, okay?"

"No!" The word came out abrupt and sharp, and I immediately blushed, horribly embarrassed but thankful for the darkness. "No," I said more quietly. "I'm fine, thank you. I… I wouldn't mind staying out here for a bit." I tried to sound casual. "Unless you'll be too cold without a jacket?"

_Please say yes. Please say no._

"No, I tend to run hot, actually. The air feels great." Yes, I was acutely aware that he ran hot; his fiery skin licked me every time he was close.

I drew his jacket more tightly around myself. "Okay, then."

I toed the grass under my feet, trying to wrap my mind around the situation at hand. Edward and I were together, alone, for the first time. Truly alone. No assignment, no computer issue, nothing. Just him and me.

And I was totally clueless what to do now.

Like always, Edward saved me from my awkwardness by plopping down on the grass directly in the middle of center field, facing the bases. His long legs stretched out in front of him, and he leaned back on his arms. The picture of ease. _The nerve of him, being relaxed._

I shifted a few small steps closer; he looked up at me and waited patiently. I sank down next to him, tucking my legs under me, stiff and unsure. We were an arm's length away.

_He could reach out and grab me if he wanted to. _

I shivered and snuggled deeper into the coat.

We sat quietly for a few minutes, just breathing and blinking and watching the stars above. I wondered if he was waiting for me to speak. I racked my brain for something to say to him that wouldn't be weird, or creepy.

_I know how you like your coffee. _

_Bringing me that tea was the sweetest thing anyone has done for me a long time. _

_I search for you while running. _

_I touch you in my dreams._

Over my hammering heart, I heard Edward's low chuckle.

"So… I had this plan. To get you here. And now you're here… and my mind is blank."

My fingers threaded through damp grass. "You had a plan?"

"You could say that. A brilliant scheme that was hatched maybe, oh… 30 seconds after I caught you trying to escape the bar tonight." His laugh was uncertain and so fucking sweet. I wanted to close my eyes, to lean against his chest and feel the vibrations shake through me.

He continued earnestly, "I was just craving… solitude. There always seems to be an audience around you and me. Even when we're alone, we're _not_ alone, you know? And, forgive me, but you never seem… comfortable." His words were gentle, but my face grew hot. I was embarrassed that my daily discomfort was so obvious.

_I thought I at least _looked_ like I was doing okay...I knew he could see it. How fucking embarrassing…_

Edward seemed to read my mind. "Hey… don't worry about it. I doubt anyone else notices." He smiled at my still-furrowed eyebrows. "I pay attention, remember?" He viciously attacked his hair again. "I think maybe that's why I came up with this terribly planned scheme to bring you here. I find this place relaxing, and I thought maybe… it would do the same for you."

I tried to find the words to say, something to put him at ease, to take the apologetic tone out of his voice… but I was blank, a useless static, unable to quell his worried ramble.

"I just wanted to talk with you," he continued softly, "somewhere away from work or a crowded bar. And this place popped into my head…" He once again ran his hand through his hair. "Like I said, this was all pretty hastily thrown together." He laughed humorlessly. "And now you're sitting on damp grass, and it's the middle of the night… and it doesn't seem like the most amazing idea anymore."

I didn't want him to feel like he had to justify his actions. I wanted to face him, to look his straight in the eyes and tell him that this was perfect, the cold night and his heat, how thrilled and nervous and awestruck and fucking insanely mixed up, how _happy_ he had made me to bring me here and for just fucking _existing_…

I finally opened my mouth.

"I'm really glad you brought me here," I said softly, cutting off his ramble. A smile grew on his face, and I immediately blushed and averted by eyes. _Shit_. "I mean, you know, ah… for the opportunity, to get to know one another. It's important to get to know each other, as professionals. For work?" I meant it to sound confident, but it came off like a question. I shut my eyes. _Could you look any more weak, Bella? So stupid..._

I heard him chuckle again. "I'm glad to be here with you, too. For the professional opportunity to get to know you. Professionally. " He laughed, and I knew he was teasing me. I couldn't help but laugh a little, too; a small sound, barely above a breath… but it was there. And I think he heard it.

"Okay." Edward stretched back on his arms, smiling up into the sky. "So you like Bright Eyes and Celtic punk. What else ya got?"

Bit by bit, he coaxed words from my lips, what I loved and hated, what I had in my CD player at that moment (Rufus Wainwright), and what music I ran to (Michael Jackson). Edward gently drew me out, cracking my shell though light queries; his questions were lyrical as the music of which he spoke, and skipped across my nerves like a stone across water. My heart raced when, in return, he gave me pieces of himself, too. It turned out that Edward was an accomplished musician, having played the piano his entire life.

"Were you any good?" My words wavered, but they also held a slight challenge to them, and I realized that I was being a bit… playful?

_Oh, _teasing_ now, Bella?_ _Look who joined the party._

"You could say that." He plucked a blade of grass and rolled it between his fingers; for once, he was avoiding my eyes. "I used to play some concerts around the US. Once at Carnegie Hall. A few times in Europe." I openly gaped at him, but he just shrugged, the gesture tinted blue. "That was a long time ago. I play with computers, now."

"I wouldn't mind hearing you play sometime," I mused, lost in visions of the Viennese Waltz, extended limbs with long lines, legs scissoring between each other, copper hair above a tuxedo collar…

_Wait… what?_

My eyes widened and cheeks flushed in the darkness.

_Oh. My. Stupid. Mouth. _

"I think that's a definite possibility." A shiver skittered across my skin, but I was too busy being horrified to really feel it.

Then he asked, "Are you blushing?"

_I. Am. Mortified._ "That's… embarrassing." I admitted with a tight, short laugh.

"I'll take that as a yes." Edward sat up, placed his elbows on his bent knees and stared out toward home plate. "It's a shame it's so dark out here."

"Why?" My question was breathless, and it hung in the air between us.

Edward lowered his eyes to the dark grass, taking a pregnant beat before saying quietly, "Because that blush is one of the best parts of my day."

His words hit me like ice water. My heart hammered in my temples and my chest caved inward as I stared at the ground. I viciously rubbed the pads of my fingers against the metal teeth of his jacket; I needed to feel the jagged edges bite into my skin. To remind me where I was, to keep me grounded to earth when I threatened to float away on that velvet voice.

From the corner of my eye, I saw him shake his head. "Forget I said anything. Let's move on, okay? Tell me about you as a teenager."

We moved on then, but I most certainly did not forget.

Edward laughed heartily when I reluctantly told him that my punk rock phase had manifested itself in my early teens, and uproariously at my cautious admission that my freshman year in high school I had worn black and metal spikes and had begged my father for a tattoo.

"You wanted a tattoo? What did you want?"

"A sparrow. I wanted to fly away." I flinched slightly._ My mouth needs to slow down. _But Edward kindly continued on, as if I hadn't said something pathetic.

"Did your father ever give in?"

"No. Charlie had informed me that, 'quality, upstanding girls from good homes didn't get tattoos.' " I shook my head. "Of course, my mother was on my side." I kept my voice even, despite the dull pang that flared in my chest. "She told my father to 'loosen up,' to stop being so uptight. She even offered to take me right then, and to get a matching one in support." I looked down at the grass. "It was very difficult to rebel against my mother, because she always wanted to rebel right along with me."

Edward rewarded me with another laugh, and it didn't matter that I wasn't telling him the whole story. That I hadn't really cared about the stupid tattoo; that I had just been happy that my mother had been there, making an appearance in my life.

I didn't tell Edward that Renee had left the very next day without a word, for another trip… to be with _them_.

That Charlie and I didn't speak for three weeks after that, and that the silence between us in our huge and empty house had been deafening, devastating. That Renee didn't call again for about four months that time, after my 16th birthday had come and gone.

I didn't tell him any of that. I wanted him to laugh at the image of a young, silly, rebellious Bella with a supportive, if slightly erratic mother. That was much better than the truth, and I didn't want to burden his stunning smile with my childish inadequacies.

I became aware that my muscles were contracted, burning with tension and bitter memories. I forced my fingers to unclench, to push down on the wet ground so close to where Edward's hand lay.

"So," he asked casually, "did you ever get your tattoo?"

My cheeks flared, but I met his gaze. His eyes blazed; green flames against a black canvas. There was a curious burning that I felt deep in my stomach, low and tight.

"Maybe." I bit my lip, and my eyes flickered down to his bicep. "What about you?"

Edward smiled and tugged on his sleeve, bringing the black cotton down to cover more of the color marking his skin.

"Maybe I did, too."

We both laughed. His was clear and confident, mine soft and hesitant. But I laughed, nonetheless.

I was relieved when the subject quickly shifted to our hometowns. While I had been in Seattle my entire life, he had grown up Forks, Washington, which was a small town about three hours away from me. We spoke of our old lives: high school sports and dances, old friends and teen angst. I was mesmerized that, my entire life, this creature had been less than a day's drive from me. I felt oddly… cheated, and I didn't understand why.

Edward's questions continued, prodding and sincere but staying safely superficial. Slowly, I felt myself opening up in spite of myself, talking more and asking him short questions in return. It occurred to me that Edward was patiently stroking my mind, drawing truth from me as he must have pulled music from ivory piano keys. He would smile and listen, look concerned when necessary and interject when appropriate. After a bit more of his patient solicitations, and to my great surprise, conversation flowed freely between us.

When the conversation lulled, we settled into a peaceful silence. My shoulders were slumped with heavy relaxation, no longer tensed up around my ears. My fingers traced lazy shapes in the damp blades brushing my thighs as I snuggled into the warmth of Edward's jacket. I could hear his steady breathing next to me, rhythmic and even, and I shut my eyes and concentrated on his radiating heat that licked at my ribs and eyelids and lips.

His coat had been draped over my shoulders, and when I moved to put my arms through the sleeves, (fervently hoping that it looked like I simply needed more warmth when really it was to draw his scent nearer to me), Edward had cordially reached out and helped me shrug into his jacket.

_Stop being nice to me_, I had thought as I ducked my head, blushing hot. _I don't know how to handle it._

My neck was beginning to hurt from tilting back to examine the sky and from resisting the constant yearning to look sideways at him. My muscles twitched with strain and I hesitated, debating what I should do, what it would look like…

_Fuck it_.

Carefully, as if trying not to startle a dangerous animal, I tensed back on my elbows, briefly mirroring Edward's posture before finally giving in and lying fully back on the damp, cool grass besides him. A small sigh of relief escaped my lips as I felt the small knots in my neck immediately begin to loosen. My hair was still in a bun, an annoying bump between the back of my head and the earth, so I pulled it free and allowed it to fan out on the ground around me.

Edward glanced down at me, his gaze lingering on my prone body for just a beat longer than necessary before turning his head back to the infield. I heard him swallow, a subtle gulp of air, and a throb resounded between my legs. The flash of heat was a shock against the cool air.

In that moment, I was so grateful to Edward that he had never once made me feel like I was being inappropriate, or too casual, or just plain stupid. He never indicated that he detected weakness, never made me feel self-conscious or doubt myself or my behavior. He was giving me permission to smile, to lay back against the yielding grass, open and honest.

It was exactly what I needed.

As I listened to Edward gently interrogate me, I took the opportunity to turn my head and stare openly at him; I was infatuated by the shapes formed by his moving mouth. His hand still lay on the grass next to mine, and I suddenly wanted so badly to cover it with my palm, trace the tendons with my fingertips. I wanted to feel his smile against my neck, damp with dew.

But mostly, honestly, I just wanted him to keep talking to me.

And when he went to fully lie back on the cool grass, my breath caught in my throat but I didn't cringe away. I willed myself to stay strong, to keep talking and keep my body from shying away.

_Calm down. It's okay_. _You're not doing anything wrong…_

I just stared into the inky black sky, and breathed, and ached. Whenever I thought I could, I would turn my head and steal a look at him, my stomach flipping as my brain tried to make sense of the sensations swirling through my body, making me shiver and peak and grow warmer and wetter.

_You're _feeling_, Bella_, the Alice-voice said in my ear.

I shook my head. _Be quiet, little one._

We started to talk more about his life, and that suited me just fine; there had been enough about me, I craved more of _him_. He told me about his time at Stanford, but he never once made a big deal about the prestige of the college; he was humble and generous with his praise, instead crediting his success thus far to his mother.

"Elizabeth Masen is an incredible woman. Brilliant, brave, and selfless." The reverence in his voice was so genuine and endearing, and my heart fluttered a bit. "My dad died when I was eight, so it was just me and her for most of my life. She worked hard, sacrificing her time, her money… everything, for me. When I was old enough, I knew I owed it to her to succeed and do everything I could so someday I could make her life easier. The job with Clearwater and Black provided me with enough extra income to pay all of her utility bills every month, which has really helped her out. With Swan, I can help with her mortgage, too." The pride in his voice was obvious. I swooned. "That's why I am so grateful to your father for offering me the position with Swan Consulting. It's a fantastic opportunity for me, and I'm very grateful to be there."

His admiration was touching. "Your mother - she must be very proud of you," I finally said.

"Oh, I know she is. She tells me all the time." His laughed again, sweeter than before; a laugh I imagined was reserved just for the woman who bore him. He rolled his eyes. "But aren't parents required to be proud of their children, no matter what they do?"

I stiffened slightly, but made no indication of my wariness. "I suppose so."

I felt him turn his head. "Mr. Swan must be extremely proud of you and your accomplishments. Your mother, too."

I nodded, but made no attempt to correct him. I felt him rise up on one elbow. I avoided his eyes, instead bringing my hand up and brushing away my bangs. I knew that only Alice would have read my body language, would have sensed my distress… and oddly, inexplicably, I got the feeling that Edward sensed it too.

My throat felt smaller and I forced myself to swallow the thoughts that were beginning to bubble up, memories and images and feelings that I would normally pound into pavement with heavy heels…

Edward lay back down on the grass.

"So… how about Mike's Dilbert coffee mug? Huh?"

I laughed then, loud and real. He turned his head to look at me, and I did the same. My smile wasn't hidden from him now, and we just looked at each other fully for the very first time, staring and grinning like fools. I was still scared, nervous, confused and crazy… but my determination to stay aloof was buckling, my mental wall crumbling all around me, the last bit of my resolve to remain distant, was falling… melting. I felt free. I laughed again.

"Oh, it's great. So great that I wouldn't mind throwing it off the roof of the building." Edward's laughter mixed with my own, like our voices did earlier when we were singing.

The conversation turned to our co-workers. I stayed quiet, mostly, hesitant to divulge anything of substance in the irrational fear that it might ruin something_. Old habits die hard, I _thought glumly. I avoided discussing Mike and Jessica; even the thought of her stupid fucking heavily painted face made my blood boil. I especially avoided Charlie. I spoke instead of something I had only before mentioned to Alice: about Angela's persistent kindness toward me, and Emmett's sweet teasing.

"They've both been so nice to me," I mused softly, "and I've never been able to tell them how grateful I am." Edward turned his head toward me.

"Why _wouldn't_ they be nice to you?"

"I'm…" My face became hot, and my icy fingers tapped at my breastbone. _Jesus, Bella, why did you say anything? _I suddenly struggled with my words. I had felt so good right now, safe and happy, I didn't want to ruin the jovial atmosphere with… me. "It's nothing. I'm just… not very popular at the office."

I felt him watching me, his electric gaze searing the side of my face. "Do you really think that's true?"

"I know it's true." I said matter-of-factly. "It's true because I made it that way." I could feel his green eyes watching me, and I gave him my perfectly reasonable, perfectly plotted, perfectly flawed explanation.

"I know how dangerous it can be to have relationships with people in a work environment, friendship or otherwise. My career is very important to me. It's… everything." I dug my fingers into his jacket, relishing the feeling of the jagged metal sinking into my tender palm. "It's easier to stay distant from everyone, and to not get involved personally."

"Hmm." He made a thoughtful sound. "But you're not staying away from me, right now."

My mouth was raw. "No, I'm not."

"Am I dangerous?"

"Yes," I answered immediately. The word hung, cold and simple.

The mood was suddenly solid, electric. My skin was scattered with goosebumps, and my nipples reacted to the charge.

"Why did you really try to leave so suddenly tonight?" His tone was tight.

_Fuck_. I shrugged, my face enflamed. "I… I told you. I was tired."

Edward paused, but then I felt him nod. "Okay."

I knew he knew I was lying. It killed me. For some reason, I couldn't do it. I couldn't give him a warped version of the truth… I needed to be honest with him.

"I just…" I sighed, and it was a sad, defeated sound, so small against the vastness surrounding us. "I guess it had something to do with Jessica."

_Oh god, how do I explain this without sounding completely ridiculous? Pathetic?_ _Like an insane, eaves-dropping stalker?_

The conversation was rapidly expanding, pushing beyond just having to explain my weakness for him, my stupid school-girl crush, this impossible whatever I felt toward him… it was venturing into dangerous territory, places I hadn't been in many years. Places where I was a human being, with anxieties and feeling and the capacity to hurt.

This was getting too real.

"Jessica? And what you overheard her say?"

"Yes," I admitted reluctantly. "I mean, not the stuff about you, obviously… well, yes, that too, but…" I stopped and started again.

_Oh god. Oh god. Stop stuttering and fix this… control yourself… _

I took a deep breath. "She's just very crude, and I think she intentionally tries to get me riled up. I didn't want to exacerbate anything, so I figured it would be better if I just left." That was the partial truth, and I hoped it would suffice.

"Oh." He paused. I listened to the trees murmur around us, until I heard him say softly, "I was waiting for you to come back."

"I know." I was almost whispering now. "I'm sorry. I just… I…" I swallowed hard. _How can I be so good around clients… such a strong, confident, capable business woman… and be so completely useless as a person?_

"I just couldn't stay."

_Please just understand me. _

Edward nodded. "That's okay."

And it was. It just was. Relief spread over my skin like cool oil.

"How do you do that?" My question was hopeless, raw, and I couldn't stop myself from asking it. I was beyond that now.

"Do what?" He was being sincere, and I was once again acutely aware of where we were, what I was doing, how close he was…

"Make me… forget where I am, or _who_ I am…" _Isabella Swan, hopeless, awkward and lonely and cold…_ "or feel like I don't know what I'm saying, or doing, or thinking." I spat the rest out quickly. I couldn't believe what was coming out of my mouth. _Case in point._

"I could ask you the same thing."

I gasped. Our eyes caught, held, burned together. I wanted to steal his warmth.

Something shifted between us then. The universe tightened, and it was the exact size and shape of that beautifully kept baseball field. I was firmly grounded to the earth next to him. My fingers relaxed, my jaw slackened. It wasn't the booze, or the cold… it was me. I was there, and I wasn't going to waste any more time second guessing myself and fretting.

I was ready to talk to him. _With_ him.

I opened my mouth, and began.

"Top three punks bands. Go."

Once the dam was broken, the flood of words and questions rushed out of me and I soon found that I _couldn't_ stop. I didn't dare go too deep, due to both a lack or bravery and a sneaking suspicion that turnabout would be fair play… but I felt an almost compulsive need to gather every fact about him I could. First job. Favorite flavor of pie. Farthest he'd ever traveled. My questions were silly and childish, but Edward smiled and laughed and answered every question, pausing to think and indulging every trivial query I threw at him.

It was… exhilarating.

Laying there in the cold grass, Edward and I conversed for what seemed like hours. The moon rose higher and higher in the sky, cutting a trail through the coal black night. The pull between us now seemed to be a physical force, a tangible tug, a law of gravity; every time we shifted our weight, or moved a limb, or rolled over to look at the other in surprise or laughter or in anticipation of the next thoughtful answer, it brought us infinitesimally closer together, millimeter by millimeter, until our hands lay so close that I could almost feel his pulse throb beneath his warm skin.

My body and my mind were on fire; smoldering embers on the moist earth.

As if this night couldn't get any more shocking, delightful, confusing… once I finally relaxed, I found that Edward could make me laugh. It started out as soft giggles that I attempted to swallow and stifle behind my balled fist, but he refused to give up on me, and soon the laughter bubbled up from my lips until I couldn't censor myself anymore. I laughed strong and clear, the sound foreign to my own ears. It escaped my body in a rush, as if seeking a long-denied freedom. Edward did an incredible impression of Emmett, and then one of Mike that had me in near hysterics.

I couldn't believe myself. Laughter had only ever been this easy with Alice, and Jasper… and with Charlie. My father had made me laugh when I was a girl, when he still loved me enough to give me laughter and when I was still innocent enough to allow it.

But that didn't matter anymore. I didn't feel like a Swan. Right then, I was the sparrow.

Edward finished telling me a story about a time when he and Emmett had gone out to dinner one night and had encountered an old girlfriend of Em's, who had ended up having to dodge a plate of flying spaghetti. My jaw hurt from laughing so hard. My lungs heaved and gasped, and as I clutched my stomach as I gulped for air he grew quiet. Edward watched me intently. "I like your laugh."

"I think I forgot how much I like to laugh," I answered honestly as I looked over at him. Nervously touching my forehead, I tried to ignore the flare of nerves in my chest. "I, ah… I suppose I used to laugh all the time, when I was younger… but now I'm always working, focusing… life happens, and it just becomes less and less important to laugh," I blathered on. I recognized that he couldn't know what a big deal that was to me, to be saying these crazy things to him, but he listened with saint-like attention.

"It's beautiful." I burned all the way to my ears. Then he said, almost inaudibly, "You're beautiful."

I was on fire, my stomach flipping and spiraling. I didn't know what to say, or how to look away from those malachite eyes that glittered in the dark.

"So where did your laugh go?"

My mouth went dry, my words withered on my tongue. What could I tell him? That my laughter had been both lost and found in a dirty, dark room that I tried desperately not to dream about? That my mother had taken it with her every time she left, or that my father had smothered it gradually with cold indifference?

No. I couldn't tell him any of that. He shouldn't hear it, and I shouldn't give a shit anymore, anyway.

"I don't really know. I think I just grew up." The lie was practiced and painful.

"That's… interesting," he said. Once again, I felt completely transparent. I drew his coat tighter around me, like a shield. "Regardless, I'm glad I finally got a chance to hear it."

He sat upright, his elbows on his knees, twisting a blade of grass between his fingers. "So what do you do to let loose?" He looked back at my prone body, both his head and smile crooked. "Like, go completely wacky. What makes you laugh so hard that tears run down your cheeks? What movie makes you bawl your eyes out? Or--"

"I can't cry."

The second it was out of my mouth, I froze. My stupid fucking candor was unacceptable. Not having the ability to cry was a bizarre phenomenon to personally experience, but hearing it admitted out loud to anyone was insane.

_Shit._

"Ever?"

_Double shit._

"No." _I need to make myself sound less like a serial killer here_. "Crying is pointless, you know? It's distracting and unattractive. And messy." I tried to smile at him, to make it feel more casual than the tension in the air made it out to be, but his expression was stoic.

"When was the last time you cried?"

"Almost eight years ago," I answered immediately. "The last time I saw my mother."

_Why oh WHY am I saying all of this?_

He just watched me, his eyes revealing dynamics that his face did not. I didn't seem to have the talent to read him, but he had displayed almost telepathic abilities with me and my emotions throughout the night. It wasn't quite fair.

"But it's okay, really," I insisted. "I'm just so busy with work… I don't have time to waste being sad."

Edward's green eyes searched mine in the darkness, and I tried to withdraw, to hide away inside of myself… but he held me there. "So you forget to laugh, and don't have time to cry." He made a thoughtful sound in the back of his throat. "That must be difficult." His voice was low, subdued. "To be so busy with work that you don't have time to feel something."

But fucking shit, I was feeling something right then. For the first time that night, I felt genuine fright pumping through my body.

_I should be disgusted with myself, for being so weak. So pitiful..._

"It sounds so much worse when I say it out loud." My thoughts were coming out of my mouth now. I felt like I had to explain.

"My career is… everything to me. Everything." I was naked in front of him now, admitting things that I never wanted to say out loud. "I can't de distracted by anything, or anyone." I clenched my teeth. "That's just how it has to be."

"Why?"

"So I can be successful."

"What does that mean?"

His question cut me. I tasted weeks of turmoil, of doubting and newness and Alice's gentle observations on the back of my tongue, bitter like bile.

"I don't know," I whispered.

"Are you happy?" His question was simple.

"That's a loaded question."

"It's not meant to be."

"You always have to sacrifice something for happiness." I said slowly, painfully. "To be happy, you have to give up your security, your power, your self-respect. It's not… logical." I swallowed my raspy confession. I spoke to the stars, wishing they could hide me from… everything.

"You have to have a goal, a focus, and _everything_ else is secondary to that. Friends and co-workers, loved ones, family members… The cold truth is that they aren't absolutes. Their affection can waver, grow fickle, leave. Nothing in this life is guaranteed." My stomach clenched painfully. "That's why I have to work _so hard_ to succeed, to focus, to make my own way. To prove that I can do this on my own, be in control, and never worry about getting hu-" I clenched my teeth together. "About being vulnerable."

My hands were balled up into tight fists at my sides. I stared at the sky, terrified to look to my left, at his reaction to my ridiculous speech. Horror, no doubt. Disgust. I was being pulled in a million different directions: It was liberating to say these things, and saying them to _him_… I was confessing, conceding, spitting out my blackened, atrophied emotions and laying them on the grass between us.

"I don't like thinking of you that way." His words were pulled hard, stark concern in his tone. "Never laughing, never crying. You deserve to feel something." He shook his head. "Do you understand that? You work so hard, all of the time. Everyday. I see you… you don't even look outside the huge window, at the city. You're amazing, capable and brilliant… but you always seem to be struggling."

My shallow breathes were too loud in my ears. "You aren't the only person to say that to me," I whispered pathetically. _Oh Alice, if you could see me now._

"_I_ feel things." His quiet admission threw me into shocked silence. I turned slowly to look at him, his skin pale in the moonlight, his profile stark against the purple night that framed him, his crazy hair like a halo above his head. "Things I can't explain. Things I know I shouldn't. I see how you struggle… and I…" Both hands went to his curls, tugging lightly. "Shit. I'm sorry. I'm babbling here."

My heart ached, each beat radiating pain through my entire body. My brain felt slow, sluggish, struggling to catch up.

Edward turned his head suddenly and met my staring eyes. His were bottomless green pools, and I feared that I would tip in head-first, become lost in their depth. And I didn't know if that would be so terrible.

"I've upset you," he said firmly. "Bringing you here tonight was selfish of me."

_No._

That wasn't true. As insane as this night had been, as intense as these last few minutes had become, I knew that last statement to be false and I needed him to know that. I had to give him something, something real… it was the least I could do. Even if it destroyed me.

"You asked if I'm happy." I swallowed thickly. "I'm happy now. Here."

"Right now?" He laughed, the sound twisted with disbelief. "In the dark and the cold, when I am so obviously torturing you with questions and terrible impressions and embarrassing confessions?"

"With you." I held my breath against the strain to stay calm, but I didn't close my eyes. I was grateful for the dark, blanketing my scarlet cheeks in shadows. At least that humiliation was spared.

"I made you happy?"

"Yes." The truth was quick, slicing away at my plans, my path. My understanding of myself.

"But?"

"You..."

_You will be my undoing._

I couldn't finish. I'd finally run out of words.

Edward sat up on his elbow, the bulge of his bicep sloping from the sleeve of his shirt, ink dripping down his skin in ribbons. He was above me and I laid in the damp grass, his face hovering over mine. Fuck me, he was right there: every line, every sharp angle and soft curve of chin and nose and temple….

He leaned slightly over toward me, and my hands twitched and twisted into the earth with the force it took for me not to grab him, bury my fingers in his thick hair and let him make me feel good, happy, filled, to do physically to my body what his eyes and presence did to me from a distance…

_He hasn't addressed me tonight,_ I thought wildly. _Not Ms. Swan or Isabella or Bella or crazy bitch. _I wondered if he would, and what he would say if he did.

"There's another reason this job is so important to me." His warm breath caressed my numb cheeks. "Why I'm so eager to come to work everyday. Why I am so fucking nervous every time I see you walk into a room-"

For once, Edward's eyes weren't locked with my own, waiting patiently for me to find them.

They were on my mouth.

"Am I crazy?" His voice was low and gritty. His eyes softened and he glanced back and forth between my wide ones. "Don't you feel it, too?"

_Yes yes yes yes–_

A ruthless light filled my vision, blinding me. Edward and I both reflexively raised our arms, shielding our eyes from the cruel intrusion.

"Hey!" A voice rang out into the night, carrying loudly across the field. We sat bolt upright. A bright beam of light was rapidly coming down from the top of the bleachers, directly above home plate. "You, there! You kids stay _right there_!" The light hit the bottom of the stairs and began to bounce wildly, skirting the perimeter of the backstop.

Our heads swiveled toward each other, eyes wide, breaths coming in cloudy puffs between us. I was filled with stiff shock, frozen in place. _I can't be caught here._ What if the guard had called the police? I imagined what my mug shot would look like: tired raccoon eyes, embarrassed and unfulfilled. I envisioned having to call Alice to come bail me out of jail after I'd been arrested for trespassing. Oh god… I could see Mike's smirk and Charlie's face, judging me as I cleaned out my smooth mahogany desk…

But Edward… he was smiling. A huge, toothy grin, his face beaming. All of the silly, irrational fears about my incarceration flew out of my head, and the weight of the night – the fear and the triumph, the adrenaline, the pure happiness and sexual tension – it all hit me at once.

I grinned back.

We were on our feet and running toward the low fence, feet dancing over the slick ground.

_Thank _god_ I'm wearing flats and a supportive bra._

"Hey, stop!" I glanced over my shoulder; the light was now briskly moving over the infield grass; it and the dark figure attached to it were coming closer.

As we quickly approached the gate I sensed Edward slow down slightly and angle toward me, but I was up and over the gate before he even reached it. He leapt easily over the top and landed next to me, his eyebrows. Even in the chaos, I didn't miss that he looked a bit impressed.

We both looked back at the light; it was still coming for us, steadily approaching the outfield grass. My heart was pounding, threatening to explode out of my chest. Edward's eyes jerked toward the direction of the car, but he shook his head.

"We won't make it…" he murmured. His hesitation only lasted a fraction of a second; he grabbed my arm and yanked me toward the biggest nearby tree, which looked just wide enough to just barely hide us both.

Edward positioned his back flat against the trunk and wordlessly pulled me into to him. His arms encircled my shaking shoulders and brought me tightly to his body. We froze, soundless and tense, holding each other in the darkness.

My body swayed slightly with the force of the blood driving hard through me, adrenaline pushing through my veins...

_What would Mike Newton think of me right now? Hiding behind a tree to avoid incarceration?_

Crazily, I stifled a wild giggle and tightened my hold on his poor shirt. I pressed my face into Edward's chest with new-found abandon, my nose buried in the soft material, fingers twisting into the soft cotton between us.

His arms were hot around me, blazing through the heavy leather. He might have felt my shoulders quiver because he moved one hand up my back, trailing across my shoulder blade and along my neck, threading into my thick hair and I surrendered, leaning my whole body into his firmness, his smell, his heat, god his fucking _heat_…

The beam of light cut through the darkness surrounding us, sweeping back and forth from the left, vanishing momentarily just to reappear on the right. My heart leapt into my throat. The guard was close now, probably standing just inside the gate not ten feet from where we now hid. We were concealed from discovery, sheltered in the shadow of the thick tree. We didn't dare move an inch, didn't look at each other or try and adjust our posture even minutely. Only his fingers moved, ever so slightly, sinking deeper into my hair, his subtle motions sending disproportionate shockwaves through my entire being.

The silence was deafening. Edward's chest rose and fell under my cheek, and his arms tightened around me.

"You people don't come back! I mean it this time," the voice called out again. I could hear now that it was a man, and from the sound of it he was pretty old and out of breath from his sprint to catch us. The light glared all around us for another few seconds before disappearing abruptly, his retreating steps barely discernible.

Edward and I remained where we were. I took another deep breath of his scent, drawing him in. _Oh god he smells like night, like spices and sweet things, something warm and inviting and delicious…_ I felt his chest expand, too, filling with air that no doubt held some of me as well. His breath hitched, and a small gasp escaped his lips.

I didn't want to move for fear this would stop, that he would pull away and my body would be left cold, exposed, aching for him… because this couldn't be real. He couldn't really be this close to me, pressing in to me, shielding me outside of a beautiful, if illegally accessed, ballpark. I screwed my eyes up tight and clutched at his shirt, the soft cotton crushed between my fingers.

But Edward moved first. The fingers in my hair untangled themselves and slid downward, finding purchase on my chin. He lifted my burning face, and what I saw there made me struggle for breath.

Edward's eyes threw sparks. His stare nearly overwhelmed me, made my knees tremble; his eyes were dark, rich mineral onyx, darting back and forth between mine. His face was contorted in… something. Something intense. I'd never seen his perfect face so revealing, finally expressing the same turmoil that I felt inside each time I was near him.

I felt fire blazing in my stomach, lower, making me swell and ache between my thighs, _need him _there. I wanted to touch him, to trace his worried eyebrows with my fingertips, feel the softness of his heavy, treacherous lips.

Edward's hands suddenly slipped down, over my shoulders and arms, barely brushing the sides of my breasts before grasping me around the middle, his long fingers wrapping almost completely around my small waist. For the third time that night he moved me effortlessly, spinning me around until my back was pressed against the unyielding tree bark.

I struggled for balance, for solid ground, for composure. His breath was coming in short pants now, fanning over my face, and I was mildly embarrassed to realize I was doing the same thing, my chest heaving, mouth dry.

He took a step impossibly closer to me. He brought both hands up and placed them flat against the tree on either side of my head and leaned forward, pressing into me. My palms found the bark too, next to my hips, and I gripped at the wood with my fingertips. He towered above me, filling my entire _existence_ with heat and torturous electricity that hummed just behind my breasts, which were sensitive and alert, hardened buds barely brushing his chest.

Despite the chill, a light sheen of sweat broke out over my overheated skin, on my back and chest and neck…

My nerves were live-wires; sparks lit my vision.

I could see chaos mirrored in his eyes. In that moment, I pretended that he was like me: torn in half, heaving and trembling.

Edward dipped his head toward mine abruptly, and just like my dream he stopped painfully just brush strokes from my lips and tongue and teeth. The small space between us was alive; bright white and slick, sweat-salty. Tender and rasping.

Edward licked his lower lip. Slowly.

And I panicked.

Pure, unadulterated panic flooded by veins, frigid like ice water and startling like cracking thunder. I sucked in air, but it was just more _him_, leather and wildness and boy…

I shook my head.

"I think you should take me home…" My words escaped in a razor-sharp rush.

Edward's eyes focused, pupils shrinking until the green now visible again. His head jerked back but his body stayed where it was, searing ,branding me. His eyes were confused.

"… Mr. Masen." I finished. I swallowed, and my saliva was bitter and cold.

Edward stepped away from me then, and my body and my heart mourned the loss. He appeared dazed as he rubbed the back of his neck.

I had never been closer to losing my composure, to letting my frustration leak out from beneath my eyelashes. My vision blurred. I was so angry at myself, so frustrated that this beautiful being, this perfect moon-bathed creature in front of me was here, in front of me, and I couldn't even fucking handle being near him.

_You are fucking hopeless. _

Edward looked at me, his face once again smooth and unassuming. He gave me a smile, but it held none of the easy mirth from before. It was… well, it looked more like mine. Like Isabella.

I followed Edward back to his car in miserable silence. He opened my door for me and sat down, our gestures echoing our movements from what seemed like days ago when really it was just hours earlier… but now, he undoubtedly knew the truth. I was ruined, damaged, unfit for human contact. I had just proved it. He must see now. The cold leather against my back matched the icy self-loathing I felt inside, like an old friend.

The soundtrack to our ride home was more classical music, haunting and melancholy, wrapping around my hands and legs like bonds. Edward only broke the silence once, to insist that he drop me off directly at home. I wasn't surprised; it was the gentlemanly thing to do, and after what I had learned about him tonight I would have expected nothing less from him. I didn't even have it in me to argue, to put up a fight and insist that he take me back to my car, that I was fine and I could take care of myself… I simply nodded and allowed him to drive me home, murmuring directions while I stared out the window.

As we approached my street, electric regret shot through my veins. My teeth ground together, and my fingers sought… anything. Something to save me.

_I can't have ruined this already._ Tonight was a blur, and I realized that I needed more time. I had tried to keep reminding myself that it might all end in a moment, that I might never see him again… but that was a real possibility now. I would never see his smile again, not like what he had shown me tonight… only under the harsh fluorescent lights of the office, or the neon glow from across the bar… My heart hurt at the stupid thought.

Edward pulled up in front of my house, which was, thankfully, dark; there would be no small spiky head staring out the front window. He put the car in park and sat quietly, one hand on the steering wheel, the other lingering on the shift.

I could taste misery in my mouth, sour and shameful. Slowly, I shrugged out of his jacket, leaving it stiff in the seat around me, hollow like an empty cocoon. I reached out with one shaking hand and found the door handle, feeling the smooth metal under my fingertips.

_Say something. Don't just leave. Make this right…_

"Mr. Masen… I'm…" Edward turned his head toward me, and I bit my lower lip. "I'm sorry."

Edward smiled, but again… it wasn't right. It wasn't him. It was fake, a shield, like the ones I wore every day. I loathed it on his face.

"For what, Ms. Swan? I had a nice night. I'm glad I got to know a bit more about you…" he smiled again, that false smile, "and I look forward to working with you."

My stomach sank because I knew I had ruined it. Destroyed. I felt broken, a shattered mirror. I should be pleased, because it was what I had wanted all along, right? To move along as co-workers, professional and distant…

Then why did I feel so fucking empty?

_Tell him. He confessed… you can confess, too…._

But instead I nodded and pulled the handle, like the chickenshit I was. I deserved far worse than the frigid air that blasted my bare skin, replacing the heat from the car. My teeth chattered as I stood.

Before I shut the door, I heard Edward speak softly.

"Good night, Ms. Swan."

The door clicked shut and I squeezed my eyes shut, the low whimper ripping from my throat swallowed by the gentle hum of the engine. My feet dragged as I turned and shuffled up my walkway. I wrapped my arms around myself, clutching at warmth that I wouldn't feel again.

Ridiculously, I already missed him. I missed a man whose first name had never escaped my lips. I missed him without ever truly having him, even as he idled on my curb, obviously waiting for me to go into my house.

I stopped in the middle of the path. My feet, which were normally so anxious to move, were rooted to the spot.

_No._

I couldn't leave him like this. I couldn't, not after tonight, what he had given me. I wasn't going to deny this, to pretend like nothing has happened. Something inside me knew… I couldn't walk away from Edward Masen.

Now or never.

I spun around and took a few quick steps back toward the idling Volvo. Almost immediately the window slid down, and Edward leaned over the now-empty passenger seat, looking at me with concern.

"Mr. Masen," I croaked. I gripped my elbows, my knees shaking, doubt and excitement and fear boiling inside of me.

I looked at his eyes, those gorgeous emerald eyes, and I spoke the truth.

"Yes." I licked my lips, braced myself. "I feel it, too."

And I was moving then, my back to him before I could gauge his reaction. It was too much. All of this… what I just said, where he took me, what he opened inside of me… I had to go.

But now it was his turn to stop me. "Ms. Swan." His voice was even and gentle, but undeniable. I skidded to a halt.

_Shit_.

I pivoted slowly. Edward was now standing next to his car, his door open, his arms propped on the roof. I almost laughed in relief when I felt it: the crackle, the snap that was still there between us. Edward was smiling.

"I want to see you again."

I gasped and felt heat cover my cold cheeks. He battered his hair, which by now was in complete disarray. He had never looked better.

"And I want to be clear," he said as he walked around the front of the car, and came to stand on the sidewalk next to the purring engine. I unconsciously took another step toward him. "I want to take you out properly. Somewhere we aren't trespassing, where we aren't chased away like teenagers, and you don't almost freeze to death."

"I had a wonderful night." My voice carried over to him on a gentle breeze, and he smiled, and it was real again, and dear god I felt it…

"I did, too." He ran his long fingers through his hair once more before looking up at my frozen figure from under his thick eyelashes. "I want to take you on a real date, Ms. Swan. That's what I want. May I do that?"

The world was different around me: colors were changed from grey to green, darkness reversed to light, cold emptiness filled with heat and weight. I didn't know who I was anymore, this woman standing in the middle of the night, discussing a date with a man. This man. I had never felt farther away from Isabella, from being Ms. Swan than I did right then. I was smart enough to know myself, that this good-feeling would not last, but…

_Oh hell. Fuck it again._

"Yes," I croaked. The acquiescence that escaped my lips dislodged doubt in my tired, reeling mind, and I felt a thin ribbon of panic snake around my throat, but I stuffed in down deep. My fingers dug into the flesh of my arms.

Edward's smile widened. "Okay." His face was luminous in the streetlights, his smile tired and blinding. "You tell me when you're ready, and I'll ask."

He knew. He _felt_ my panic, and said what he needed to calm me down. It was unnerving.

"I'll wait for you."

_Too much._ It was too much for my head, my heart, my resolve…

I nodded one last time, silently agreeing to his terms.

Edward gave me once last crooked grin before ducking back down into his still-running vehicle. I fumbled at my lock with numb fingers and when the tumblers finally clacked into place I opened the door and slipped inside. I heard the engine gun as he pulled away.

In the darkness of my living room, I pressed my back against my front door. My skin remembered rough bark, and heat and flesh pressing into me.

I slid down the wooden door, my legs suddenly boneless, until I came to rest on the floor. My eyes glazed, my brain stuck on flickering images, skipping like a vinyl record.

I have no idea how long I sat there, but when I eventually dragged myself up into my bed fully-clothed the sun was just beginning to peek up, staining my skin gentle pink and tangerine.

Reality would wait; that night I dreamt of confessions and damp skin.

**

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**AGH! Updated!!**

**JTFC, I was so neurotic over this chapter. Ask poor Dawnie, who read and re-read one sentence for me probably 10 times. (*muah*)**

**Thank you guys SO MUCH for waiting so patiently for this chapter. I haven't gotten even one negative PM, demanding an update or asking what the fuck I've been doing… because you guys are the absolute best, and I'm so glad grateful for each one of your reading this right now. Your PMs and reviews keep me going. =) I can promise you this: I work on this story_ every single day_, whenever I can, and update as fast as humanly possible. I love this Bella and Edward, and can't wait to progress with their relationship.**

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**Also, please visit this awesome site: http://www (dot) alexslemonade (dot) org/stands/19842 It's a fundraiser being sponsored by some unbelievable talented amazing TwiFF writers, and it affords everyone in this incredible fandom the opportunity to raise some cash to battle childhood cancer. Makes me proud to be a part of this community. **

**- ahealthyaddiction **

**PS: btw, I wanna make out with every single one of you. Just saying. **


	11. Chapter 10

**My betas are the best. No contest. **

**Dawnie, your support is incredible. Thank you.**

**Allison, your observations are invaluable. Merci beaucoup.**

***sigh* I do not own Twilight.**

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_The porch whispers secrets under my feet, as it has a hundred times before. The colors are vibrant, burning, and I am hyper aware; I feel the cold, smooth metal under my palm, the warm spring sun caressing my shoulders, my long hair dancing across my back. _

_My hand wraps around my doorknob, rotates: it's locked, but I expected as much. However, the air is crisp and clean, and I'm home, and I value the moment without annoyance. I'm having a lot of these appreciative, reflective flashes lately, since I've been away at college. It's sort of nice._

_But something is wrong now, and I swallow a strong sense of déjà vu that isn't lessening. The vulnerability is stifling; I'm distantly aware that I've been here before, yet powerless to stop. _

_Don't go in there. _My own voice speaks to me_. Go back to the dorm, to Alice…_

_But my begging is soundless, and body continues to move, fumbling with my keys, acting out motions that feel oddly practiced. _

_Its spring break and, interestingly, I'm actually excited to be back._ _This is definitely a new phenomenon, me being happy to be _here_._

_It's so stupid, but… I'm anxious to show my dad my new jersey. I mean, I'm eighteen years old, for shitsake, in college, a grown woman… and yet I'm still excited to tell my father that I made the team. I feel silly, like a little girl excitedly displaying a picture of a terrible purple giraffe, or of people with arms and legs sticking out directly from their heads. _

_I smirk; I made the team handily, too: I smoked those other chicks at the try-outs. _

_The key rotates in the lock with a click._

_My first meet is coming up, and I'm confident I'll win my first run of the season. Alice makes fun of my feet, cracked and covered in blisters from the daily training. I just lob pillows at her across our dorm room, flip her off, and tell her to come to the meet so she can kiss my ass when I come in a full two minutes ahead of every other bitch in the 5000 meter. _

_My father will probably be proud of me. I bite my lip as I push the door with my shoulder, precariously balancing bags and books. He'll almost certainly have some time for me tonight, and we can talk track and eat whatever I cook from the undoubtedly pitiful inventory in the pantry. _

_I wonder if he'll notice anything different about me. That I'm different. Happier. _

_We have a lot to talk about, my dad and I… and I think I'm finally ready to do that. _

Maybe_._

_I laugh, the sound mirroring my mood: high and hopeful. Hell… maybe he'll come to watch me run. I chuckle and shake my head. _Don't get your hopes up, Bella._ But I do._

_But there is an ache, too, deep and disconnected. Under the surface of this scene I mourn because somehow I know, my heart knows what happens next. I can only go on, an actor in a film playing out to its inevitable ending._

"_Dad!" My bags land with a heavy thump inside the door. I doubt Charlie is even home yet; its 6pm on a Friday night, so he's probably still at work. But my optimism gets the better of me and I turn toward the stairs and call out again, "Dad, I'm home!"_

"_Bella." _

_A name like a bullet, sure-aimed and lethal. I am rooted to the spot._

_I'm trapped, but my frozen figure doesn't quite know it yet, and suddenly it's like I'm looking at myself from a distance: this young, hopeful girl that has truly blossomed since being at college, away from the loneliness of this house. With Alice, who helped her find my laugh. With school, which I genuinely enjoy, and at which I am excelling. _

_Some impossible piece of me recognizes the Bella I could have been. And that might be the worst part._

_As my conscious mind screams for salvation, my body turns slowly toward the voice that I sometimes wish I could forget, but know I never will. _

_She is sitting on the beige couch, the one that I had helped Charlie pick out two years ago. At this point, she is an oddity in this room, an anachronism, an errant blue thread in a white tapestry. I am surprised that she still had the audacity to use her key, to walk into this house like she has any claim here. She has some clothes upstairs, I believe – Charlie would never have thrown them out – and she occupies some pictures; her name liters pieces of random mail and a still-valid marriage certificate... but for all intents and purposes, my mother hasn't really lived here for years now. _

_Yet here she sits, on that damn beige couch. _

_I felt that odd shapeless strain again, uselessly urging action. But there's nothing I can do about that now. Right now, I am eighteen year old Bella, standing dumbfounded, a pathetic happiness and a furious roar simultaneously building in my chest at the sight before me. _

_Renee is undeniably beautiful. I have my father's chocolate eyes, but I have her nearly everything else: petite and lean, heart-shaped face and fiery temper. Identical noses. Charlie's hair is jet black and just now earning the spatter of salt and pepper that elevates males from simply "handsome" to the coveted "distinguished," but Renee and I had the same shade of chestnut brown. Small hands and feet, full lips, ears that are slightly too big. _

_My mother leans forward and my mind recoils, a wave of panic sweeping through me. Feelings surge, viscous and ropey, almost choking my breath: the duality of the anger and resentment crashing up against the desire to run to her, feel her arms wrap around me, the undying desire to forgive. _

_But in her hesitation, I recognize that there must be something going on. She is here, first of all; there was no phone call alerting me to her arrival, which is her typical routine. She is poised strangely, too: ram-rod straight, shoulders square, fingers knotted in her lap. _

_I notice an object that is out of place in the room. I have never seen it before, and to avoid her eyes I focus on it now, big and full and clear as day, sitting alone on the coffee table. And suddenly, for no reason, I feel panic, both remembered and real, as I stare at the offending item._

_The photo album. _

_I realize that I haven't said anything. I don't move a step closer to her or back out the door. I stay planted, confused and tense. I wait._

_Renee smiles, and I suddenly hate this. I am sure now that this is a dream, impossibly aware that this is a repetition of the past. Stuck between now and then. _

"_Bella," Renee says again. She sweeps her hand across her forehead. Tugs at her bangs, tucks them behind her ear. _

_She pats the sofa next to her. "Come sit next to me, sweetie. I need to talk to you about something."_

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

_Bella. Saturday._

"_I need to talk to you about something…"_

The rain tapped a steady cadence against my window. Morning filtered sharply through my gummy eyelids, substituting light for fast-fading colors.

_Whoa. Where was I just then?_

I moaned, flexing stiff fingers, wiggling toes that were still held captive in silver flats. My teeth were wearing fuzzy sweaters.

The dream must have been intense, because my heart was thrumming wildly beneath my breastbone and a light sheen of sweat lay across my forehead despite my lying on top of my comforter. I squeezed my eyes tighter, trying to clutch at edges of the departing scene: a locked door, and my voice echoing through an empty house… but it was fruitless, like grasping at smoke.

_Well, I hope it was a good one._ My mind began to focus, the gauzy curtains of sleep gently parting. _Maybe it was about… _

_Last night. _

My lips curved into a small smile, my stomach rolling slightly at the rush of memories. I drew in a deep, slow breath… and was immediately startled by the smell of black coffee and lavender concentrated directly above my nose.

My eyelashes parted with a wet rip, and I found a pair of glittering brown irises hovering six inches above my face.

"Oh good," Alice deadpanned. She was practically lying on top of me, and her hot breath was tickling my nose. "You're awake."

I watched groggily as she leaned back, crossed her legs, and looked at me expectantly; a tiny sitting Buddha in middle of my white and pink comforter, quite obviously settling down for a lengthy stay. I wondered how long she'd been lying in wait. Alice had the determination of a mule.

She thrust a steaming mug under my nose, and I inhaled black tea and spices. Humming in gratitude, I curled my fingers around the warm porcelain and scooted up until I was leaning against my headboard. My thoughts were heavy, my mind nebulous from scant sleep and the hastily-departed dream, but I still felt… good_. _So good. Warm and blissfully unencumbered.

I peeked out from above the rim. Alice was watching me through narrowed eyes, lips a hard line, hands resting on top of her knees. I hid a smile as I took a small sip and swirled the hot liquid in my mouth. Paused. Swept my frizzy bangs back behind my ear. Stayed silent. Took another sip. Waited. Smacked my lips.

"Dammit, Bella!" Alice yelped, laughing and lunging at me. I had to quickly lift the mug high above my head to avoid her fluttering hands as they clutched at my shoulders and knotted hair. "You have to tell me what happened last night!" Alice beamed as sat back on her heels. "Tell me everything, or I might explode. Literally. Do you want me to explode, Bella? Do you?"

I rolled my eyes. "Alice, it's been like," I looked at the clock, "twelve hours since I texted you. You had to be passed out during some of that…"

She quirked an eyebrow at me, but remained silent, watching me for signs of discomfort. But I gave her none. I was enjoying teasing her. I felt high and playful as I took another sip of my tea.

_Who _am_ I, and where did Isabella Swan go_? I refused to seek too deeply for an answer. Instead, I honed in on the glass of red juice and celery sitting on my night table.

"Rough night?" I asked sweetly.

Alice groaned, and waved her hand dismissively. "No. Fine. Jasper made it. _Focus_. Tell me everything!"

I choked. "What did you say?" I said, slowly. "Did you say Jasper?" I gasped. "Did Jasper spend the night here?"

This caught Alice off-guard. Her mouth formed silent 'o' before sputtering, "No! I mean, yes, he did…" She shook her head at my flabbergasted expression. "He brought me home last night and offered to stay with me, because you weren't here… He slept on the couch," she added quickly, then immediately looked to regret her supplemental information. She slapped my mattress with her palm. "Stop it, dammit! What happened to _you_ last night?"

My eyes followed my finger as it traced the smooth lip of the mug. "I, ah…" I swallowed. The words were sticky, clinging to the inside of my throat. "I was with Edward."

Alice raised both palms. "Hallelujah!" she cried happily. "Details, dear. Aaaand… go."

I took a deep breath and recounted last night's events. Jessica and her stupid lies and my automatic knee-jerk reaction to run, (this earned me an eyebrow-raise), and then Edward catching me outside the bar, (_this_ earned a fist-pump). About the awkward ride when I fucking _sang_, (Alice's mouth dropped open as I cringed, but she wouldn't let me obsess, wildly waving her hands to move along), and the surprise of the beautiful baseball field.

She gasped and put a little hand to her mouth. "How did he know?" she whispered. I shrugged, my stomach fluttering. Distantly, it occurred to me how pathetic that was – _fluttering_, for fucksake. But again, I tried to focus. To stay firm, to hold at bay the harsh doubts that were beginning to push at my resolve.

I continued with flushed cheeks and hushed tones, much to Alice's delight and my embarrassment. Impulsively, I included details like his jacket around my shoulders, his hands on my waist, my heart in my throat. However, when I quietly recounted our interaction on the field – the increasingly intimate conversations, the astoundingly easy laughter he found within me – Alice grew thoughtful, eyes widening, arms going slack. I trailed off as she leaned forward, searching my eyes.

"Did you really tell him all of that, Bella?" Her words were spoken softly, and I couldn't read her tone. I nodded hesitantly. "And? How was that?"

My head fell back against my headboard. "Scary. Bizarre. Different." I met her curious stare, and smiled. A real smile. "Incredible, Ali."

She suddenly placed her palms flat against her face, fingers splayed out like pale starfish. Her movement shocked me into finally being fully awake. "Alice?"

She uncovered her face, and my body went rigid when I saw that her cheeks were wet, tears like diamonds clinging to her eyelashes. The dormant knot that had been sitting in my stomach since last night suddenly unraveled within my chest. Guilt and shame rushed though me, making my teeth click together and my bladder clench painfully.

She was disappointed in me. As she should be, honestly. I should be disappointed in myself. _Fuck_. My behavior last night had been inexcusable. Just because something feels good doesn't mean it should be acted on… Stupid. Even Alice saw it.

_What was I thinking? What was I doing?_

"Hey!" I whispered urgently. I touched her leg, my stomach sour with regret. "What's wrong?" I asked hesitantly, not truly wanting to know. None of it was real. These stupid fucking _feelings_ truly were a weakness, cruel illusions making me see things that weren't there, that couldn't be there.

But Alice threw me again when she smiled at me, wetness tracing the curves of her cheeks. "I'm just… happy, Bells. Excited for you." She swiped at her face, laughing now. "I'm fucking ridiculous." She squinted at my wide eyes, my suddenly labored breathing. "Are _you_ okay?"

I nodded, but my confidence was splintered like rotten wood.

"So that's _all_ that happened?" she pressed tenderly, and I cleared my steadily tightening throat.

"Not entirely," I admitted, suddenly hesitant. I wanted to change the subject, talk about Jasper, about the weather… anything else, really.

"There's _more_?" Alice clasped her hands in front of her face and threw her head back. "Please tell me it involves something sweaty and pants-less. Please…"

"No!" I said quickly. I blushed, and I knew my hot skin didn't go unnoticed. She smirked as I paused, suddenly unsure what to say. How to put into words what I felt with his chest pressing into mine, his breath sweet and humid across my cheeks, his eyes…

Alice snapped her fingers. "Bella! Where did you just go?"

She listened patiently while I reluctantly told her the rest of the night: our narrow escape, Edward's heat and the hard tree on my back, the horrible ride home and my unexpected confession on the front steps. Finally, I told her of his desire to take me out on an actual date. Alice reacted with her usual gusto, clapping her hands and squealing, genuinely happy for me.

But it had already begun. My mind was beginning to churn, suspicion and self-loathing flaring bright in the pauses. I began to see small portions of last night - my too-loud laugh, lying in damp grass like a child - and I was disgusted with myself. Against my will, the urge to run began to slowly creep into my limbs, the need to move and replace this awareness with hollow footfalls on wet pavement.

Three abrupt realizations that hit me all at once, the truths striking me like sharp slaps:

First, there was no denying it: Edward was interested in me on a non-professional level.

Second, there was part of me — and I wasn't prepared to admit how potent of a part — that yearned for him, his warmth, his peace.

And third, I was apparently unable to bullshit him and the reality was that he would soon see how damaged and useless I truly was… and I would inevitably ruin it all.

"So what did you say?"

My eyes had wandered to stare at the white-grey morning outside. "He told me to tell him when I'm ready," I answered, my voice monotone. "He said he would wait for me."

Alice's eyes, the color of caramel, scrutinized my twitching face, and I knew she was aware of the war now raging within me. She always knew. "I want to hug him already," she said gently, and I could hear the careful control of the excitement behind her words. "Do you think you might talk to him on Monday?"

Despite her even tone, kindly meant to keep me calm, I could feel hot lines of anxiety creeping into my lungs, taking root, heavy blooms bursting black and hot.

"Jesus, Alice." My mind rifled through fast excuses and struggled for calm… ironically, to find the peace I had felt with Edward last night. "Isn't there a rule or something?" I asked, half-hopefully. "Aren't I supposed to wait four days?" My hand reached up to find my tangled bangs, but Alice once again surprised me by reaching out and catching my hand before it could find purchase.

"Bella." Alice brought my hand down to rest on the bed, and covered it with her other palm. "Stop. Relax. Open your eyes."

We stared at each other: my eyes wide and wild, hers loving and kind. Her warm fingers drew looping letters in the back of my hand, writing secrets. I let loose an unsteady breath and became aware that my shoulders were pulled high and tight, and as I consciously worked to release the tension, I knew that this struggle was far from over.

Our moment was interrupted by a voice calling from downstairs.

"Aaaaaalice! Tell Bella to get her ass down here so I can have my pancakes!"

Now it was Ali's turn to blush. She stood up and fussed with her hair, rolling her eyes. "I promised Jasper I would make breakfast this morning, in appreciation for his staying here to _protect_ me." She threw my still-folded pajama pants at me. "I'm happy for you, Bells," she said softly. She pointed at the pants. "Get dressed, come eat."

As she left, I noticed for the first time that Alice wasn't wearing her usual sleep uniform of sweats and ratty gym t-shirt. _Huh_. My observations were delayed: She had on red silk pajamas, clingy and beribboned and beautiful against her pale skin, a set that I had admired more than once in her dresser.

And wait… had she been wearing makeup? On a Saturday morning?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Jasper was a pointillist painting: up close, a mess of tiny details, a million points of color and light. However, when you stood back and took in the whole scene, the picture suddenly came together, the beauty striking. There was perfection in the chaos.

He had obviously borrowed some items from Alice for his overnight stay. I noticed that he looked nice in lavender, the sleeves of the robe barely reaching below his elbows, the bottom hem not quite clearing his hips. He was shirtless under the soft purple satin, sandy-colored hair peeking out from his surprisingly muscular chest. Hot pink socks were stretched so tight I could see flesh-tone through the glitter, and the heels were situated half-way down his long feet which were crossed on top of our kitchen table. He was reading the newspaper, his eyes skipping over the tiny print of the stock report as he chewed on the stem of a dapper wooden pipe, unlit and empty. Oh, and of course, he was wearing a red cowboy hat. Why wouldn't he be?

"Alice, is all of this yours?" I flicked the unfamiliar scarlet brim as I sat down next to him. He had been engrossed in the paper and hadn't heard my arrival, and he smiled brightly when he saw me.

"Hells, Bells! Long night, I hope?" He folded the paper down and grasped the bulb of the pipe. "The robe and socks are Alice's. The sweats are yours – thanks, by the way – but the hat and the pipe are all mine." He waggled his eyebrows at me, and I caught Alice's amused smile as she set another cup of tea down in front of me, red pajamas swishing prettily around her legs.

"Dare I ask… _why_ do you keep a pipe and cowboy hat in your car?"

Jasper stared at me as if I had asked him something painfully obvious. "For when I sleep over places, of course." He gave me an overly-dramatic wink. "You never know who you are going to need to impress the next morning."

_Crash_.

"Oh, shit," Alice murmured. I leapt up, towel in hand, and couched next to her as we frantically tried to mop up the milk that was now all over the floor. "Stupid…" I looked sideways at Ali, saw her tight lips, her furrowed eyebrows… but it wasn't from the spilled milk. She shook her head at me, an infinitesimal movement, and I stayed quiet.

Jasper was up and helping in a flash, his pipe clattering to the floor. There was a tension now, unspoken sentiments sharp on the group around us with the shattered glass.

"I meant impress you… both. Both of you." He was on his knees next to Alice, glancing sideways at her hard face, her eyes boring a hole in the floor. "And, ah, for other reasons, too…" he continued, his voice thinned with forced nonchalance. "What if I woke up in a back alley, and I needed to warm my head? I would be very glad to have this hat. Or if I randomly found myself with an ambassador to a foreign country? The pipe might make me look more credible, and I might be able to help avert a nuclear crisis…" His joking was gentle, but insistent, obviously trying hard to lighten the suddenly tense mood.

I stood up and walked to the sink, pretending to be very busy wringing every last drop of liquid from the towel. But I couldn't avoid seeing Jasper slowly reach out and place his hand on top of Alice's, stilling her furious movements. Her eyes remained fixed on the wet floor.

"I didn't mean it like it came out, Alice," he said softly. Jasper's long fingers curled around her tiny ones. "There's no one else in this world I give a shit about impressing."

I held my breath and shut my eyes, the silence itself a harsh dissonance. I heard Alice's shallow pants pushing through gritted teeth.

She suddenly stood up, her rapid movement startling both of us. The knees of her pretty silk pajamas were darkened, and I could see the tension in the corner of her mouth, lips pursed. Clearing her throat, she said, "Do you have gym clothes in that well-stocked car of yours, Jasper?"

Jasper stood up slowly, nodding warily. "Yes…"

Alice nodded. "Good." She turned and tossed a plate on the table from a bit too far so it landed with a loud crack: whole wheat pancakes, tofu facon, organic maple syrup.

"Hurry and eat." She moved past me toward the stairs, and I heard her murmur under her breath, "I need to sweat."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Defeated, I leaned against the counter in the kitchen, pressing the heels of my hands into my wet forehead. My entire back was soaked with cold sweat, and my abs were throbbing from the brutality that had just been inflicted upon them. Alice had spent the last three hours destroying Jasper and me; we had dipped, squatted, pressed, lunged, pushed, lifted and crunched until we could hardly stand. Alice was obviously trying to destroy something, beat something into submission. She had finally let us go only when I lay down on the gym floor and threatened to hang myself with my bra if she didn't release us; that the Geneva Convention called for prisoners to be treated better.

I was secretly glad for the punishment. She'd given me my distraction, my drug to temporarily quiet my softly whispering demons. I knew I couldn't avoid them forever, but the gym had granted me a welcome temporary reprieve.

With a shaky hand, I took another long drink of water. I heard the shower turn on in the downstairs bathroom, and I shook my head. Poor Jasper must be half-dead, the way Alice had ridden him all morning, urging him to go harder, give her more, push push push… but to his credit, he had done everything she asked, never once complaining and taking his penalty for unspoken indiscretions. It was both cute and ridiculous.

But I was hardly one to judge how others handled their repressed emotions.

I poked my head into Alice's bedroom to find her leaning against the wall, staring at the still-falling rain. Her back was to me, but I could make out the ghost of her reflection in the window.

My own simmering emotions were momentarily forgotten. My bullshit was one thing, but Alice needed me for a moment, even if she didn't want to admit it.

Quietly walking up behind her, I wrapped my arms around her narrow shoulders. We looked together into the grey.

"You're sweaty."

"It's your fault. Are you okay?"

"Of course." Alice huffed and rubbed her eyes. I had the bang-tugging and relentless blush, Alice had the eye rub. I knew her tells, too. "Why wouldn't I be?"

I shrugged. "You've just seemed a little weird since this morning."

"I drank too much last night. I'm not eighteen anymore, ya know?"

She wasn't going to give anything up easily. Softly, I asked, "It wouldn't have anything to do with what Jasper said in the kitchen, would it?"

Alice barked a laugh, harsh and loud. "Jasper? What are you talking about?" She opened her mouth as if to continue, but then her teeth came together with a snap. "Jasper is a grown man," she said evenly. "He can wake up anywhere he pleases," she stared out at the rain, "_with_ whomever he pleases."

My head tilted back so I could rest my chin on top of her head, and sighed. "He didn't mean it like that, Ali."

She shook her head. "Regardless, it's none of my business. Whatever." Her voice was steel wool, forced bravado woven thick.

I leaned forward, her hair tickling my cheek. "Listen," I said quietly. "Just like he said, there is only one person he wanted to amuse with that stupid hat and pipe… and certainly it wasn't me." As I kissed the side of her head and took a step back, her words from this morning came back to me, and I repeated them to her. "Stop. Relax. Open your eyes."

I left her alone with her thoughts and the rain pouring from the silver afternoon; I wondered if the steel-grey sky reminded her of anything in particular.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Truth be told, he rest of my Saturday had not gone well.

My self-doubt had grown louder throughout Saturday evening as moments from the previous night came in embarrassing flashes, causing my cheeks to flare and my forehead to randomly dampen. Saturday night was unending, legs scissoring under slick sheets trying to find comfort in the dark. The ceaseless rain matched my mood: blustery, black, unforgiving.

The sight of my best friend's wet cheeks, the few seconds when I had thought Alice was disappointed in me… it had slashed open a wound in my vulnerable flesh, slicing through the thin armor I had built up. I was infected with doubt; it festered beneath my ribs. I exhaled hot guilt.

I had been so hopeful, I'd even surprised myself. I should have known better.

How could things have regressed so much in less than twenty four hours?

I was a failure. A failure for yet again reinforcing my defects, and making a fool of myself over and over again. The memory of singing with him… _oh my god_, it was enough to make my stomach threaten to expel the whole-wheat pasta Alice had forced down my throat for dinner.

The one mystery that lingered – the one piece of the situation that I would not reconcile in my screaming brain – was Edward's desire to see me again. I remembered the scene vividly and could see his face, sincere and smiling in the street next to his car, black shirt straining against his broad chest. My fingers twisted into my pillow case as they had the soft cotton. By about three o'clock in the morning, I had successfully worked myself up into such a state that I couldn't remember what could have _possibly_ made him want to see me again.

I considered touching myself, allowing my fingers to seek dark folds and wetness, to let myself feel good for a moment… but I couldn't even do that. The act felt bitter; it wasn't my touch I craved.

Sleep eventually came, reluctantly.

Sunday morning had greeted me with the familiar state of self-loathing that I wore like a second skin. The most painful reality was there then, no longer lurking, finally pulled to the forefront.

_You can't see him again,_ Isabella whispered, the morning light monochromatic and the sentiment equally bleak. _You can't_ _because he will see that your insides are black and jagged, and that love doesn't stick to you. That you are never anyone's first choice. Ever. _

Isabella rejoiced as I slowly collapsed.

I wandered aimlessly through the house all Sunday, drifting from couch to kitchen table to disheveled bed, only to have my feet repeating the circuit over and over again. I couldn't even find it in me to go to the office for distraction: his presence was there, yet another reminder of my impending loss. I couldn't run, either: I was sore from yesterday, and honestly, I didn't feel like I deserved the release. I needed to _feel_ my defeat. My malfunction. So I floated about the house, trying to find refuge in bad television and the sound of falling rain.

Alice seemed to share my restlessness. Surprisingly, she left me alone all day to wallow, instead choosing to completely re-organize both of our closets. She had worked with fervor, mumbling as she dragged out every article of clothing I owned, laid it on the bed, and decided its fate. Sorting and matching, ironing and tossing and even ripping seams when the article was deemed particularly offensive.

I watched her from under my pillow, not offering to help, just letting her do what she needed to do. Alice rarely grew agitated, but when she did it was best to let her ride it out, jump in if I felt I was needed.

The weekend grew old, and finally Alice's maelstrom ended with her laying out my clothes for Monday; ankle boots with nude stockings, rust-colored pencil skirt with ruffled black shirt. She was dressing me like a sultry librarian, and I couldn't even find the passion to protest. She had spoken as she picked; her banter obviously sought normalcy. I mostly listened, grunting in the right places.

Alice paused at the foot of my bed, appraising my prone figure.

"So?" She tugged on my comforter, uncovering the lower-half of my face. I didn't bother grabbing for it. "Tell me, Bella Swan: what are you going to do tomorrow?"

The million dollar question. The one I had been avoiding all weekend. What the fuck _was_ I going to do?

But I knew. I knew what I had to do.

"I'm going to tell him no."

As the words came out, they tasted bitter, like sucking on the peel of an orange. Releasing them into the world made them real. Made them a _plan_.

I had to let Edward go.

But for the first time all day, Alice smiled. She reached out with warm fingers, squeezed my foot through the blanket.

"No. You won't." She silenced my protest with a smirk. When she left my room, her shoulders set square and sure.

His stunning face was absent from my night, just as it would soon be from my days.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

_Monday_.

Alice had snuffed every attempt I made to make clear why I could not go out with Edward, why I _had_ to tell him no. It was out of the question. Absurd. Doomed. But she waved her hand as she poured her coffee, her tiny body pinballing around the kitchen with a renewed enthusiasm. She was certainly in a good mood; Alice had apparently found the peace during the night that still eluded me.

"Nope. I don't wanna hear it," she said firmly. I leaned against the counter and sipped my tea grumpily, trying to quell the need to explain it to her, to force her to see why this had to be.

But Alice just smiled, smacked my ass and darted out the door for an early-morning client.

"Your tits look amazing in that shirt, by the way!" she called out playfully over her shoulder.

I stood in stunned silence, preparing.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

My reflection stared at me as the elevator ascended, exterior immaculate but brown eyes dull. Hard. Words scrolled through my head once again, a constant loop that I had repeated during my drive:

_Edward, can I talk to you? About the other night..._

Simple, really.

I kept my thoughts staccato. Shallow, superficial. _It has to happen this way. The sooner the better. Just rip the band-aid off._

I knew I had to end this... thing, before it truly started.

Focus. Like reading an instruction manual, or a map. Distance. Necessary. I had to banish any thoughts of hope or remembered warmth. I couldn't allow my heart to have a say in this.

_It has to happen this way. The sooner, the better,_ I repeated.

The elevator doors slid open, and I cut a sharp path to my desk. I didn't bother looking around; it was too early for anyone to be there, and I needed to sit before my legs gave out. I felt smothered: I was on the bottom of the Pacific Ocean that lived outside of the panoramic window, alone and cold, the heavy water crushing me. I hated myself, my weakness, and I mourned my lost ability to disassociate and not give a shit about anything.

I sat down stiffly, my limbs moving on autopilot. I mechanically placed my purse under the desk and grabbed a bottle of water. My hands were heavy as I reached across my desk to flip on my automatic boiler… and I stopped.

My head snapped sideways, my miserable fog instantly clearing.

The boiler was already filled and bubbling. Two tea bags were laid out on the desk: Earl Grey. But not the brand that I had in my desk. Another kind, brought from somewhere else.

A sticky note was stuck next to the bags, the handwriting on it scrolling and neat:

_Good morning, Ms. Swan.  
555-345-0989  
Just in case._

My breath was forgotten.

I picked up the paper with shaking fingers, staring at the name, the digits, the sentiment. A sound died in my throat as a wave of emotion welled up inside, overtook me, spilled onto my skin and stained it red. The faith it expressed, and the sweet, ignorant belief that I was… ordinary. That I would be able to reciprocate, to respond, and not be such a fucking loser. That I was normal. He just… he didn't know. Yet.

The wastebasket sat empty, next to my right leg. It was a simple movement, really, to slowly lower my arm below the desk, to hover above the bin. The difficultly would be in unclenching my fingers, hearing the yellow square flutter to its rest. I would cover it in refuse, in things discarded. I would forget it existed.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

_Tomorrow. I'll do it tomorrow. _

I lay completely motionless, flat on my back, wrapped in warm covers and excuses.

_There had never been a good time to speak with him today_.

I had stared at the back of his neck at least a dozen times, the gently sloping lines disappearing down into a baby blue shirt and up under a mess of bronze waves. He had acknowledged me with a warm smile, the crooked one that made me hurt more than I already did, but he had never actually approached my desk. My fingers had curled around my cup long after the tea was gone, until the last trace of warmth had been drawn from it.

_I mean, I couldn't have just walked up to him. Everyone would have seen that… _

He _had_ occasionally sat alone throughout the day. Multiple times, actually. But the time had just never been right.

I turned over on my side, drew my knees to my chest. My first movement in hours.

_Nothing has changed. It just… didn't happen today. _

But I heard Alice's voice then, small and insistent.

_If that were true, Bella…_

My fingers tightened around the object they held, the sound of crinkling paper louder than rustling sheets.

…_then why did you keep the note?_

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

_Tuesday_.

"I think we are absolutely on track for a January opening date."

I mouthed thank you to Angela as I handed back the signed paperwork with one hand, and shut the folder labeled, _Two Bros Fro-Yo_ with the other. She smiled at me and quickly scurried off as I turned back to my computer, hands flying over the keys.

"Is there anything else I can do for you today?"

"Absolutely. Come to that ballgame with me."

My fingers paused. As miserable as this day had been, Sam's teasing tone made my lips twitch. "Anything business-related, Mr. Uley?"

"Ouch. Always the professional, huh?"

"I thought this was a business meeting, _Sam_." He laughed as I shook my head, The Uley brothers and I had become quite comfortable with each other through our frequent phone meetings, and Sam's good-natured flirting had returned, casual but sincere. I felt better equipped to handle it now. He was harmless, really.

"Then no, I think we're all set for now, Bella. But this issue might come up again from time to time… in the course of _business_ and all." I could hear his smile.

I made a note in his folder and sighed, looking at the city: glittering grey buildings, the painted ocean, a smear of green and turquoise across the bottom of a canvas, a rare patch of sapphire blue sky barely visible from behind the omnipresent clouds. Edward was right: I never looked out this window.

_Edward_.

Every muscle in my body tightened, and I let loose a breath. Refocused_. Not now._

After I bade Sam goodbye, I wasted no time trying for what felt like the millionth time to finish an email to Carlisle regarding what would be the first of our bi-weekly meetings. Distraction from what I was truly nervous about was absolutely no problem today, as the entire office was buzzing with activity, the tinkling of phones and the constant shuffling of paper. It was like the city of Seattle had conspired to slam us all at the same time. The tension was palpable; a current ran through the office, low and throbbing. Even Mike hadn't found a spare moment to come harass me.

_Carlisle, _

_We are definitely set for this Friday at 9am. I will confirm with Mr. Masen. Please let me know if there is anything in particular you would like us to address. We look forward to seeing you again. Please give my regards to Esme._

_Sincerely, _

_Bella Swan_

I hit send and sat back in my seat, intending on moving along to the next item on my agenda. However, my mind reflexively flashed upon the face that I had been denying myself all day, the one with the rough jaw and bronze eyelashes. He had been missing today; I had heard in passing that he and Emmett had another on-site emergency.

This morning, I had been resolute: I needed to talk to him today and put an end to the waiting. But by the time I had set foot in the elevator this morning, I was barely composed. I paced like a caged animal, and with clawed fingers I almost hit the emergency button between floors fourteen and fifteen.

I hadn't. I needed to be a big girl, and face reality head-on.

But when I had squared my shoulders and walked into the lobby, my traitorous eyes had darted around, searching greedily against my will. I was relieved and bitterly disappointed to find him absent. I waved to Angela with a steady hand, sat at my desk, and lost myself to my massive workload. Between the emails and the incoming phone calls and various other tasks, I barely had time to breathe, let alone sit and ruminate on my predicament.

I was in full Ms. Swan mode, all business and no pleasure. I would deal with him later in the professional, efficient manner that I had worked so hard to hone. Clearly, I hadn't been doing enough of that lately.

But as the day went on, it was clear that my body didn't understand my brain's determination. I kept repeating the same unwanted actions, over and over again: Every time the elevator door would chime, I would stop whatever I was doing and my head would involuntarily whip around to see who was emerging from the mirrored doors. When it wasn't him, I would flush and fluster, the automatic rebuke would come quick: _Stop it, Bella. Your behavior is ridiculous. You're being childish. Stupid. A failure._

Then the thoughts were pushed aside, my attention refocused. _Concentrate on the next task, Ms. Swan._ Shuffle, type, answer, plot… anything to stop my mind from wandering to the place when work ended and the hurt began.

Because it _would_ hurt, saying goodbye to Edward.

But every _fucking_ time I heard that metallic ping, my head would swivel and seek out his face, his smile, his hands, only to feel the shame of my lack of control all over again.

In vain, I attempted to convince myself that Edward's absence was good. _It's lucky that he's not here, that I can't see him. I can stay strong, work out exactly what I am going to say… I haven't even had a moment to think yet today… _

_Ping_.

My eyes flew to the lobby. I couldn't have stopped myself if had tried.

It was Mike who strode into the bullpen this time, blonde hair stiff, grey suit slightly too big for his skinny frame. He met my eyes briefly, and I immediately looked away, rubbing my sore neck. Can one get whiplash for _looking_ too hard?

_Ugh_.

My head threatened to drop down onto my desk with a thud.

_Ping_.

My neck was actually beginning to hurt from the swiveling. _And why are there so many goddamn people walking into this office today?_

My eyes widened slightly. In walked Emmett, the grinning, curly-headed colossus. He stepped off the elevator and made a beeline for my desk.

"Hello… still Bella, is it?" He smiled and waggled his eyebrows at me.

I smiled weakly. "Still Bella."

He tilted his head at me, eyes scrutinizing. "Forgive me, Bella, but you look a little pale. Are you okay?"

_You don't know the half of it._ I was exhausted, anxious, ready to jump out of my skin, but I gave him another smile. "I'm okay, Mr. Mc… Emmett. It's just been a long day."

"Busy here, too? Edward and I have been running our asses off all around Seattle today, putting out fires." He chuckled, and I really enjoyed his laugh: deep and sweet, like a child. A huge, goofy, brilliant child. His eyes twinkled down at me.

"That sounds intense." I averted my eyes and stared needlessly at my notepad. "Is, ah, Mr. Masen still out in the field?" My breath left my lungs with a whoosh as I groaned silently. _I just did the worst job ever of sounding uninterested._

I peeked up and saw that the corners of Emmett's mouth had turned up slightly, and I regretted my impulsive question. "He should be right behind me," he said, mercifully keeping the teasing out of his voice.

_Shit. Fix it._ I cleared my throat. "We have a meeting with the Cullens that we need to discuss." A perfectly logical and completely unnecessary explanation. My cheeks burned, but Emmett just smiled. He leaned his hulking frame down to me.

"Are you sure you're okay, Bella?"

His concern was just so damn sweet. I felt the knife twist in my stomach as I looked up into his warm eyes. _Would he still feel this friendly toward me after I talk with Edward? _I felt my own smile waver slightly. _Probably not._ I tasted misery and I was once again grateful to Emmett for always being kind, affable… for standing here at my desk in a moment when I needed a friendly face.

"I'll be okay, Emmett." I relished the syllables on my tongue, knowing that it was probably the last time that I would say his name out loud to him. Suddenly, I needed to confess. To someone. "I'm just… a bit overwhelmed at the moment." The words were foreign and oddly cathartic; saying them out loud, releasing them from the deep, dark places I kept myself hidden made this whole day – the work, the worry, the impending talk with Edward – made the prospect of the rest of the afternoon seem a little bit more manageable. Emmett nodded sympathetically.

"Bella."

Charlie Swan stepped out from behind Emmett, and my stomach dropped into my lap like lead. He had been completely blocked by Emmett's broad torso, and I couldn't guess how long he'd been standing there.

"If you will excuse us, Mr. McCarthy," Charlie said politely. Emmett nodded, mumbling, "of course," as he backed away, shooting me an apologetic watched him retreat before flicking his gaze to me as I sat stone-still in my chair. "May I see you in my office, please?" He didn't wait for a response; he turned and briskly walked away. Apparently, it wasn't an actual request.

I tried to lick my lips, but my tongue was too dry. I stood, spine straight, and followed my father to his office. Jessica lifted her head and took in Charlie, then me trailing behind him; when she looked down again, her face was twisted in an ugly red smile. I had an urge to rip it off her orange face.

_Calm_, I commanded silently. I was already emotionally charged from this Edward situation, and I needed to be in control with Charlie. It was how I got through the day when it came to my father. Detached.

As I stepped into his office, nostalgia rushed over my skin, wrapped me in a paradoxical embrace of warm familiarity and harsh resentment. This room had not changed much in the twenty five years that it had belonged to Charles Swan. The cherry wood furniture, the green mountainscapes on the walls... they were all in the exact same places that they existed in my memories. It was jarring.

"Bella, please sit down," he said, waving one hand at the stiff chairs in front of his desk. He did not look at me as I sat slowly, unyielding as the hard wood underneath me.

Charlie cleared his throat as he raised his head. "Bella, I'll get right to the point." He laced his fingers together and placed them on the desktop in front of him. "I have heard some very disappointing things about you lately."

Momentarily, all that could be heard through the stunned silence was the tick of the clock on the wall. Charlie and I looked at each other, his brown eyes expectantly blinking open and shut.

Finally, I spoke. "Please clarify."

Charlie never wavered, his eyes locked with mine. "You are not as sharp as you normally are, Bella. Your focus is off. You are easily distracted. Your intra-office relationships are becoming... lax, as I just witnessed first-hand."

To say I was dumbfounded would be an understatement. My chest was filled with white static, buzzing and rolling, and blood roared in my ears and through my face. "Mr. Swan…" Thoughts tumbled through my head wildly, and I struggled to shape them into words. "Perhaps if I knew where this other information was coming from, I could more effectively put your worries at ease." My voice was smooth and slow, but my hands were gently shaking in my lap.

He shook his head. "It's not important who else has made these observations. What _is_ important is the reputation and the productivity of this company." His tone never changed as I sat immobile, beginning to truly absorb his words. Directly questioning my work ethic? My productivity? The only tell to the gathering storm beneath my ribs was my cheeks: fiery red, growing hotter and hotter.

"I disagree that it doesn't matter. I would like the opportunity to speak with this person, so I at least understand exactly what I am refuting." I could feel my temper begin to bubble. I clenched my teeth. "Also, I would have appreciated the benefit of the doubt before you condemned me, Mr. Swan."

Charlie continued, as if I had not spoken, "Bella, this is a business. I need to be able to completely depend on my consultants to take care of our clients thoroughly and accurately, without distraction. If you are not up to this task, I would suggest that you step down and make way for someone who is."

His even words hit me like a punch. The air in the room grew thin, cold. "Mr. Swan," I said, my stomach twisting, my legs numb, "I have never done anything but work for you. Ever. In my entire life." Suddenly the words were coming from somewhere deep inside of me, and I saw a shift in Charlie's eyes; subtle, but I saw it. I wanted to spit my words out, but instead they simply slid past my tongue."And for you to call me in here and ambush me, with no opportunity to defend myself... quite frankly, sir, it's unprofessional."

That was the dirtiest word that Charlie Swan knew. I had never once said a negative thing about Charlie as a businessman or employer, in public or in private. But something was fractured inside of me then, a fissure that wept stifled thoughts, sentiments that a month ago I would have swallowed like bitter medicine meant to harm, not to heal.

Charlie sat up straighter, and for the first time his face betrayed him; I saw his cheeks redden slightly, his eyebrows knit together. It was sickeningly satisfying.

"Unprofessional? That's out of line, Bella." His voice was harder now, and I could almost feel the temperature rise in the space between us. "I brought you in here is discus your failing conduct, of which you are giving me a perfect example."

I shook my head. I was livid now, seeing stars and cold brown. My mind rewound to the past few days, and further, and it occurred to me that I hadn't spoken to Edward at all yesterday or the previous week, or really _anyone_, for that matter. I had thrown myself into managing the Cullen account, into the Uley project and the audit for Dr. Jenks… the truth was, I'd done nothing _but_ work, for the past weeks, months, _years_. I was top goddamn earner, but my conduct was failing? Because I was starting to act like a human being in the office? My life was work, work for him and his fucking company... and I was tired of taking it.

"No. There has been no discussion here, Mr. Swan. Only baseless accusations. And _that _is what's out of line." My fists were curled into the hard balls, nails cutting into tender flesh as I clutched what little remained of my composure. "You of all people should know my work ethic. I am nothing _but_ a model consultant – quite literally."

The lines around Charlie's mouth tightened, and I saw exactly when it happened: the shut off. The disengagement. An echo of my entire young life. "You're obviously not going to be rational," he said coolly. I bit my lip, the physical pain a welcome distraction from the ache in my chest. "Perhaps we should revisit this at some other time, when you are able to discuss this issue calmly."

Bit by bit, my knees unlocked and I stood. My shoulders were heavy, sagging, threatening to pull me down to the grey carpet beneath me and lie at his feet like I used to as a child, when I would hide under Charlie's desk and stare up at him as he worked, staying so still he would become lost in thought and forget I was there.

I looked at my father now, at his plastic mask, his mouth a hard line. "I will leave, then," I said curtly. "Two things you taught me, Mr. Swan: how to work, and how to leave. You and Renee both."

The silence was crushing. Charlie's mouth opened and shut, words finally absent. It was a low blow, I was aware. Possibly the lowest. But he was hitting me with closed fists, and so I reflexively struck back.

The soft click of the door was swallowed by the room.

My eyes stung and I immediately straightened up, jaw fixed, focusing only on walking to my chair. It was unacceptable to let this affect me. No one could. Not Charlie Swan, not Renee whatever the fuck her name is now. Never again.

I didn't realize I had reached my desk until my knees bumped the chair.

My senses were overloaded, sizzling. I could hear every voice in the whole damn room, every individual drop of rain on the panoramic window, every itchy pin holding my hair captive. I craved solitude, true stillness, not marred by worry or doubt or self-torture.

My phone blinked with an unheard message. It was almost time to go home, and I knew I didn't have to take it. I could just leave. Walk out, desk in disarray, save it all for tomorrow. Bella of a month ago wouldn't have even entertained the _thought_ of leaving early. She would have relished the suffering, taken the searing pain in her hands and stuffed it down deep inside to plug the holes with mindless work or relentless running.

But I wasn't strong enough to do that anymore. I was broken, but it was worse than before because now I was _aware_ that I was broken. Weak. Worthless too, apparently. I wanted to forget everything… Charles Swan and Swan Consulting, the Cullens and the Uleys, Dr. Jenks and his colicky son. And Edward.

_Edward. Fuck everything, I still have to talk to Edward._

Defeated, I picked up the phone, hit the button, and was met with Carlisle's warm voice.

_Bella! I must have just missed you._ I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate on his voice, see his face; kind lines running from smiling eyes, graying blonde hair, mischievous grin obvious in his words. _I was hoping to speak with you directly, but I'll just leave you a message… Esme and I decided to make a quick change to the meeting this Friday. We have asked our Board of Trustees to attend as well, as they are also interested in getting a progress update._

My hand stopped moving over the paper, the word, "Board" half-written, suddenly very alert.

Carlisle continued_, I believe that you and I had previously spoken about you meeting with the Board, so they could get a feel for you? A conversation that you had indicated you would be interested in revisiting? _He chuckled_. I'm sure you remember. Anyway, please don't feel like you have to do anything special, just come with the presentation we have duscussed and that will be more than satisfactory. _He paused, and his voice grew more serious, sincere. _They're going to love you, Bella. Please call Rosalie or myself directly with any questions or concerns. See you Friday! _

The message ended, but I made no move to erase it, or save it. I did nothing at all. My body was motionless while my brain was trudging along behind me, huffing and puffing, trying to catch up.

_The Board of Trustees?_ My mind reeled back to the conversation with Carlisle three weeks ago, when he had agreed to work with Swan Consulting:

"_And first we need for you to meet with our Board of Trustees, so they can size you up…"_

"…_please be assured that we are not formally offering you a position… yet."_

_Now? _

I shook my head sharply, like I was trying to wipe clean an etch-a-sketch.

This was just a meeting. It had to be. It couldn't have anything to do with Carlisle's non job-offer.

_I mean, I had so much else going on… There couldn't be anything else. Right? _

I shouldn't read into it.

Carlisle didn't mean this as a… a job interview?

_Oh. My. God. _

I was caught in a riptide, tossed between churning waves, pulled under heavy water. Drowning. I could feel my heartbeat begin to race, beating thunderously against my ribcage. My hands trembled gently; I realized that I was clutching the pen so tightly that my fingers were bloodless.

The air was too thin in there. I stared down at my desk, eyes blank, trying weakly to process the last ten minutes. There are so many people around me, walking and talking, breathing and whispering. I need to move…

The last thought hit a dissonant note inside me, and my body reacted instantly. The muscles in my thighs tensed tight, ready to spring up. Cold panic started at the crown of my head and slid down my neck, my ears, down my back. I could hear my own panting breath, feel the buzz slowly traveling up my legs.

In horror, I realized that I was about to have an attack. Here. In the office.

_I have to get out of there… _

And then I felt it. A hum of energy, fluttering across the back of my neck. My eyes snapped up.

There he was.

He must have slipped in when I was in with Charlie. Edward was sitting at his desk, looking perfect a that simple white dress shirt. I drank in him greedily. Ears and eyes and jaw, chest and arms and thighs, smooth skin spattered with red stubble.

My body remembered him. His smell and lips, which were too far away to see… I realized that I had memorized them, my mind filling in blanks now. His hair was insane, hectic… but his eyes were what caught me. Intense and dark, even from across the room, like heavy storm clouds. He was leaning forward, elbows on his knees, staring directly at me. His body was angled toward mine, and electricity flowed from him to me, snaked across my skin, under my nails and skirt and heavy eyelids.

And just like that, I could breathe. Shallow breaths became longer, deeper. My heart steadied, slowed to a normal pace. The frantic energy that had consumed me a moment ago was dissipating, and I pictured it coming off of me like water evaporating in hot sun.

I stared directly into Edward's eyes, the expanse of the room not a factor, the rest of the office fading away into darkness. I couldn't hear the clicks and shuffles of those around me now, the spiky sounds that had previously been pricking my skin like needles. It was as if a warm breeze had come and swept away the turmoil. The exhaustion of the day, the doubts and the worry about seeing him, talking with him… it all melted as I returned his stare.

He was worried. I could see it in the subtle lines in his forehead, in his posture, in those expressive green eyes. I concentrated, needing to fix that expression on his face, and I felt the corners of my mouth turn up, squeaky, like they were moving on rusty hinges. My face twitched, it was almost as if I had forgotten how to move properly. I managed to grimace.

Edward sat up straight and his chest muscles rippled visibly under his shirt. I immediately felt my cheeks flush and despite everything, felt myself become instantly aroused. So much tension and energy had been pent up within me today, and all at once it concentrated, twisted low in my abdomen and flared bright white, hot. My excitement was sudden, consuming. My panties were abruptly soaked, damp thighs pressed together.

So badly, I wanted to touch him just once more, before this was over…

That's when Edward turned unexpectedly, spinning back toward his monitor and breaking our connection.

My body instantly felt the loss. Deflated, I sank back into my chair; I hadn't realized I'd been leaning forward. I dumbly watched his arms move over his keyboard, and I thought of his hands: big and wide, long fingers, wrapped around my waist, controlling me, spinning me around until my back was pushed hard against the tree…

_Ding_.

I looked down, and saw an email… from Edward.

My cursor hesitated over the envelope icon. I had no idea what he'd sent, but I was irrationally nervous. What if someone intercepted an email from him to me? Getting caught would be devastating, embarrassing, possibly career-ending.

But just then, two things occurred to me: First, if anyone was going to check emails, it would be either Emmett or Edward himself, and Edward wouldn't do anything so endanger his job… or mine, for that matter.

Second, right then I was so tired and flustered and overheated that I didn't give a fuck.

I clicked it open.

_**Did you keep that phone number?**_

I stared at the words for a moment before my fingers tapped out a hesitant answer.

_**Yes. **_

A moment later, I received a reply.

_**Call it now.**_

I read it again. _Right now?_ I looked up at Edward, but he was still angled away me, his wide, firm back doing nothing to help my wet panty situation. _Fuck_. I exhaled quietly as I picked up the receiver, looked around the room from under my eyelashes, and dialed.

The silent tension of the room was interrupted by tinny music.

_and laura's asleep in my bed  
as I'm leaving she wakes up and says  
"I dreamed you were carried away on the crest of a wave  
baby don't go away, come here…"_

The haunting melody flew, met my ears like an embrace. I kept the phone pressed to my head while the music broke the tense room. Heads turned toward him, annoyance clear on a few faces, but Edward made no move to silence the sound. He kept his head down, eyes fixed straight ahead, and let the song play for the full thirty or so seconds. I don't think I took a breath the entire time. Slowly, he finally reached out, touched the phone without moving his head; the line in my ear went dead.

The receiver slid from my ear, somehow found the cradle, my hand frozen.

I was typing before I could think about it, before I could remind myself that this was going to end soon, before I could rub self-loathing into my skin, rough like sandpaper, and turn this moment against me.

_**That sounds familiar. **_

A moment later:

_**Well, I heard it was all the rage to have a cool ringtone.**_

I glanced up at him; he was still looking away, but I could see the beginning of smile playing at his full lips.

_**Did you just want everyone to hear how hip you are?**_

The smile stretched across both cheeks.

_**That, and I wanted to absolutely confirm you kept the number.**_

I drew in a sharp breath, and unconsciously tugged on my bangs. I definitely kept it. I had memorized it. And I had a sudden moment of terrifying, blinding clarity:

_What the fuck am I doing? Acting this way at work? The place that Charlie just chastised me for not focusing… Jesus, Bella..._

But I just couldn't find it in me to fight too hard, to hate myself too much. Not with Edward around. He made me feel… strong. Stable. Dammit, he made me feel good.

Irrationally, I wanted to talk to him. I wanted to stupidly explain what he meant to me in the short time we'd had together, before I killed the part of me that was new, ripped at the roots, growing pale green and strong and new…

_But how? _Everyone in the room was aware of him now._ I could just talk with him later. Maybe we'll end up going somewhere that we can talk, perhaps dinner…_

_Wait. _I turned my eyes to the window, and they reflected wide and shocked back to me. I shook my head slightly, as if I could somehow undo reality, deny the undeniable.

_Am I going to say yes?_

I was. Goddamn Alice: she had known what I would decide before I did, and I was realizing it now, in my office, at my desk, surrounded by the strangers I saw every day.

_Oh fuck me_.

The truth was there: the unspoken pull that I felt toward him, undeniable, like gravity.

I wanted to be with him again. I realized suddenly that I couldn't, I _wouldn't_ throw it all away, whatever it was that I found on that baseball field. What I had found here, right now. Maybe I could have a month ago. But not now.

I might be insane. I might be broken, disfigured from years of self-abuse and hard-learned lessons. I might even be un-lovable. But the ugly truth was, I simply wasn't strong enough to walk away from him. Even though I knew I should, even though it would definitely be better for him.

Every shred of determination that I had built up over the last three days crumbled to dust.

I couldn't let Edward go.

_Ding_.

_**Long day?**_

I peeked up and saw that he was looking at me, surreptitiously, from the corner of his eye. It was actually really cute and oddly intimate, this secret that we were sharing across the floor.

_**Very long day. You?**_ I closed my eyes and strained to hear his voice in my head, slick like satin, his smooth, easy laugh from right next to me in the dark, the air tasting like damp grass and tension…

_Ding_.

_**Same. I spent most of it wishing that I was here. **_

A chill raced down my spine, made me shudder. With shaking fingers, I typed a question, bold and unhinged. I couldn't help it.

_**Why would you wish that?**_

Edward stood, stretching to his full height. I was watching him closely when he turned and made his way directly toward me.

My heart flew into my throat. My eyes widened and my hands froze above my keyboard. Excitement flared hot in my stomach, lower, and just the sight of him moving, sinewy and lithe, caused my nipples to tighten, ache for friction.

Edward stopped in front of my desk. He placed both hands flat against the wood; I thought about those palms pressed against rough bark, framing my head, only cold night air between his wet lips and mine…

He leaned into me, gently invading my space, and I breathed him in, the smell my body knew so impossibly well in such a short time. My favorite smells: cotton and night, leather, sweet, fresh rain. I closed my eyes as he filled my nostrils, my lungs, my consciousness.

I felt his breath against my ear, my bare neck. I gasped softly. I forgot where we were, who could be watching; I forgot everything but his voice.

"Goodnight, Ms. Swan."

He was velvet, a soft caress across my cheek, sweet cream and sugar trickling down my throat. He was sweet and tangible. I tasted his warmth.

Just like that, he was gone. I refused to open my eyes, to see the stares I now felt in his absence. I held on to the moment, to the calm, because I knew that very soon I would need to figure out what the hell to do next.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Bella, you're staring at that phone like you expect it to dance." Alice's teasing voice came from behind me.

I was sitting at the kitchen table, my iPhone laid out before me. I had my elbows on the table, hands to my temples. Just staring. Pathetically.

The phone had been in my pocket when Alice and I had gone on a run that evening, bouncing against my ass with every stride. It had sat next to me while she, Jasper and I had made dinner. Well, while _they_ made dinner. More than once, Alice had chided me that if I absentmindedly cut the eggplant any smaller I would make baba ganoush; she finally took the knife from me with a quiet, "just let me do it." It had laid mockingly next to my plate during dinner, when I had barely spoken as I played with my ratatouille and caught the stupid knowing glances that my friends shared over my bowed head. And now, I had been staring at that goddamn phone for the past hour.

Just. Fucking. Staring.

Alice leaned over my shoulder and saw the name on the screen. With a giggle, she kissed the side of my head and skipped away, a huge bowl of popcorn in her hands. She and Jasper were about to watch a scary movie, and undoubtedly there was going to be an accidental/on-purpose snuggle or two happening in that living room, and I was mercifully left alone to agonize.

I was a strong, smart person. I was a capable businesswoman, and a fine public speaker.

And I was staring at a fucking phone.

Should I subject him to this level of craziness? Should I subject _anyone_ to this?

I pressed my hands into my eyes, rubbing wearily. _How can I close a million-dollar deal, but I can't make up my mind to make one fucking phone call?_

My head hit the table with a dull thunk.

Suddenly, tiny hands flapped above my head. My head snapped up, but Alice had already set my phone back down and was halfway out the door.

"There," she called. "That might be easier…"

I looked down. She had opened a text message box.

I picked up the device._ Fucking do this_. Right or wrong, I was done waffling. I stopeed thinking, and typed.

_**What are you listening to?**_

_Send._

Of course, I immediately hated the question. What if he didn't get it? What if he was busy, or sleeping, or out running… something _I _should really be doing. A part of me doubted he would even return the text. It was stupid, anyway, that question… _fuck_, why had I asked _that_, of all things? No hello, or this is Bella… _oh shit, he didn't have my number! What if he didn't know it was me… _

But almost immediately, my phone buzzed in my hand.

_**A recording of Franz Liszt's 3 Liebesträume. Very exciting. You?**_

I closed my eyes. _Why_ did he have to listen to classical music? Why couldn't he listen to something annoying, like emo or death metal? Why did he have to be so goddamn perfect?

The kitchen was silent, save for the opening music from the movie in the living room. My fingers decided to be honest.

_**Not a thing, truthfully. Just thinking. **_

I held my breath until I received his quick response.

_**What are you thinking about, Ms. Swan?**_

I ran my fingers over the screen randomly, trying to figure out how honest I wanted to be. How honest I _could_ be.

_**How lame it would be to text you instead of just call. **_

My forehead was pressed to the tabletop when I heard the rattle next to me.

_**I'm glad that you did.**_

It was time. No more stalling. My hands were shaking as I typed what I couldn't say out loud.

_**I'm ready for you to ask me. **_

My fingers immediately wove together, fought against one another as I struggled with the churning energy pulsing through my limbs.

It was done. Out there, out of my hands. _Ohholyfuckinggod._ I felt sick, relieved, stupid, excited. I thought about the previous few days, and what I had been trying to convince myself: that I didn't need to do this…

_Buzz_.

_**Well, that makes things difficult. I'd rather do this in person, but I also know I can't wait. **_

_Guh_. How could words on a screen take my breath away?

_**This is better, trust me. **_It was easier to be honest in a bubble on a screen. _**I'll make a less of a fool of myself.**_

_**But I'm missing that blush again. **_

I nearly swooned out of my seat. This time, I had no response before my phone buzzed again.

_**Ms. Swan, may I please take you out on a proper date?**_

I bit my lip, not allowing a smile.

_**Yes**_.

His response took me by surprise.

_**How about tomorrow night, after work? **_

My mind immediately tried to come up with reasons that couldn't, but I recognized the irrational habit.

_**Not wasting any time? **_I tried to joke.

_**Not wasting any *more* time**_, he clarified.

I felt like a teenager being asked to the prom, palms sweaty, stomach heaving.

Because God help me, I didn't want to waste any more time, either.

_**Tomorrow will work. **_

I felt the phone buzz, and I untangled my hands from my hair to read his response.

_**Fantastic. I'm looking forward to it. **_

Alice's frightened squeal from the living room was the perfect reminder that this wasn't a dream. This was happening.

_I'm going on a date. With Edward. Tomorrow. _

_Fuck. Me. _

_**Me too. **_And I meant it.

His next message piqued my curiosity.

_**I have some ideas… Will you trust me to come up with something for us by tomorrow? **_

I stared at the screen, thinking about the prospect of having no control over tomorrow's plans. But he asked me to trust him… and I wanted to. And that's exactly why he was so dangerous.

_**Yes, that will be fine. **_

The suspense might very well kill Alice. _She'll just have to deal, _I thought.

_**Excellent.**_ I pictured his crooked smile, and my heart ached to see it._** Until tomorrow, then. **_

_**Goodnight again, Ms. Swan.**_

The memory of those whispered words earlier tonight came back to me, the rush of hot breath on my skin. I gasped, and once again my body immediately responded... and he wasn't even in the fucking room this time.

_Jesus_.

_**Good night, Mr. Masen. **_

My excitement had not dissolved as I bounded upstairs. I felt lighter than I had in days, excited and horrified and nervous and a million other things that I just couldn't process tonight. I shut my door and flung myself into my bed, sinking into soft down and uncertainty.

As I shut my eyes, my hands automatically slid slowly down my side, across my soft stomach, coming to rest at the waist of my pajamas.

I whimpered into the darkness, found warmth, and reminded myself that I was alive.

* * *

**AGH! Where do you think they are gonna go??**

**Without a doubt, I have the most amazing readers. If you follow me on Twitter, (ahlthyaddiction), you had the pleasure of me tweet/bitching about how badly this chapter kicked my ass. Thank you all for being so incredibly patient with me; I hope the length makes up for the wait. (PS: RockABelly, your PMs make me squee. Thank you!)**

**Here's the good news: chapter 11 is _already written_ and chapter 12 is almost done, so the next two updates will be fairly quick! Woohoo!**

**I have a question for you all: would you guys care for some one shots with these characters? If so, may I ask with who, POV, any specific parts, etc? I'd love to hear your thoughts.**

**Again, thank you so much for your support. I really, truly love love love you all. **

**-**** ahealthyaddicion**

**(btw, so, are we gonna make out or what? *taps foot* Emo Bella makes me feel needy.)**


	12. Chapter 11

**Thank you x infinity to both of my amazing betas, Dawnie and Allison, who got their edits back to me crazy fast.**

**I don't own Twilight. **

* * *

_Bella. Wednesday._

**3:50pm.**

My palms were damp, my face hot as I looked straight ahead at my screen and resumed my furious typing, my fingers striking the keys with more force than entirely necessary. Yet again, it occurred to me to hide the clock on my computer desktop; it wasn't helping me relax, that's for damn sure. _Ugh_, that fucking clock, that I was 100% sure was running slower today than it had, ever. _I really should have Emmett look at this._

My to-do list diminished far too quickly: I finished an email to Dr. Jenks while the phone was wedged under my head, smooth jazz slowly killing me as I sat on hold. I needlessly looked back over my notes for the Cullen presentation; it was, of course, already organized and ready to go, as was my style. I made an outline for the next few days. I smoothed the pleats on my brown slacks. I mentally planned my lunch for tomorrow. I re-organized my pen-holder.

_Okay, _I thought decidedly, _it has to be at least 30 minutes later. _

I squeezed my eyes shut, fingernails lightly scratching at the wood grain in time with the pulse throbbing in my wrist. There was no doubt: I'd just spent the last 30 minutes – _Hell, maybe even 40 minutes _– concentrating on work, not thinking about tonight, not looking at his neck.

Well_, trying_ not to look at his neck.

I looked down at the clock.

**3:57pm. **

_Fucking. Clock. _

My poor bangs endured another assault as I tugged on them in frustration; I worried that they might be a half-inch longer than they were this morning.

_You're being absurd, Bella._ I sat up straighter, mentally put on my brave pants and tried to distance myself from my stupid _feelings_ for just a moment. "Human" was turning out to be bothersome; "Unfeeling Automaton" certainly made the day pass more quickly.

_You're fine, _I weakly reassured myself. I huffed._ Tonight is no big deal. You're just…_

_A complete fucking wreck. _

My eyes darted over to look out the window, but I found no comfort there, either. The city was restless today. The world below waxed chaotic, and I could hear it grinding, gnashing beneath my feet. Busy. Crowded. Too many people, too many sets of eyes.

_Shit._ I swallowed a sigh. _Can't I channel old Bella, just for like an hour or so? Old, unflappable, blissfully repressed, Bella? She wouldn't be dealing with this shit. Quite literally; I didn't deal with _anything_ then. _

I sighed at the thought._ Ah, the good old days. _

I took a long swig of water, my hand shaking. I flat out refused to look at where Edward sat, just twenty five-odd feet from me. At him and that damn dark grey shirt… the one that he wore with the black tie I fantasized about wrapping around my fist, the shirt he always rolled up so his forearms were bare, sinewy and hard and fucking all I could see.

My secret forearm porn.

_Oh how the mighty have fallen._

The entire world – clocks, shirts, the churning city – they were all conspiring to make this afternoon as difficult as possible for me.

_Where would we go?_ For the thousandth time that day, I kicked myself for not asking him more explicitly. I so wanted to trust Edward, to let him lead… but sweet baby Jesus was I struggling. Not having control, not knowing where I was going to be in a few hours…

_A few hours._

_Oh god. _

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

_Tuesday night._

Alice stood tall, (Well, as she could at five foot nothing), formidable, like a general commanding her troops to war.

We once again found ourselves in my room, Alice and Jasper both having abandoned the movie the minute they heard me bound up the stairs. The space between us was comfortable but charged; I was practically vibrating out of my skin from what had just transpired in the kitchen.

A thought occurred to me: when Alice's engagement had broken up, we had spent nearly all of our free time in her room. Night after night had been the same, with Alice hiding under the covers and me doing anything I could to distract her, encourage her, or just watch television and be there for her. Eventually the hole in her heart seemed to heal, the scab giving way to shiny pink skin. Alice emerged better and wiser, and we naturally drifted to our own separate rooms again. However, we always seemed to naturally drift closer to one another when one of us needed it, an involuntary reflex as necessary as breathing.

Lately, my bedroom had been the hangout spot. Though I didn't relish the idea of "needing" anyone, the turned tables did not go unnoticed… or unappreciated, for that matter.

"So I told him good night, and that was it."

My fingers danced along the edge of my top, nervously flirting with the twisted lace. My body felt full, buzzing, seams bulging as I recounted the story of our text-conversation of just an hour ago to Jasper and Alice. Alice, who had begun pulling clothing out of my closet before I had finished, smiling triumphantly but remaining wisely quiet. She obviously didn't want to spook the horse.

She had been staring at the same four outfits for twenty minutes, each laid out at the foot of my bed in their entirety: jewelry in place, shoes placed at the bottom, stocking stuffed underneath skirts. It was slightly eerie, as if four impeccably dressed women had lay down on my bed and dematerialized, their corporeal bodies vanishing and leaving all articles perfectly in place, underwear and bracelets and Jimmy Choos.

Jasper sat in my desk chair, long legs kicked up on my bed, artfully shuffling a deck of cards between his hands as he shifted his gaze between her and me. He was inexplicably wearing a tie over his t-shirt, shredded dickies fluttering around his knees. I noticed that he was sporting another set of too-small socks, but this pair had ducks on them; I wondered if he kept forgetting to bring his own on purpose. The smile on his face was warm and genuinely excited as he poked at my leg with his big toe.

"Bravo, Bells. Way to grow a set," he said happily. He adjusted his tie as he asked, "And where is he going to take you on this date?"

"Well, he didn't exactly tell me what we were doing," I answered slowly, "but I'm sure whatever he comes up with will be fine." My voice was firm and confident; I betrayed none of the nerves that I'd been struggling with since I came upstairs. Nevertheless, I crushed the delicate fabric between my fingers.

"Huh."

"What?" Jasper asked, looking at me curiously.

"Well… I mean, I'm sure he'll pick somewhere… out of the way, right? Appropriately away from the office, where there's little possibility of someone seeing us?" Jasper raised his eyebrow, but I continued. "Because, you know, that would be awkward. To see a co-worker, I mean. We'd have to explain ourselves…. I hope he'll think of that." I ran my finger around the edge of my phone. "Maybe I…"

Alice raised one hand, never taking her eyes off the clothes. "Knock it off. You're going to talk yourself out of it if you keep this up, and you want this. So stop."

"Yes, I know, but…"

Alice's eyes flashed to mine, glittering and potent. Her look threw silent daggers that sliced through my rambling. I fell silent. She was right; I had given up the right to be wishy-washy when I told him I was ready.

And I was. Right or wrong, I was ready, and damn it I was excited, too.

"It's gonna be great, Bells," said Jasper. He sat up, his long torso leaning forward, elbows planted on knees. "Think of it this way: worst case scenario, you get discovered, Charlie freaks out, fires you both." He paused thoughtfully, completely oblivious to my horrified expression. "No wait, that's not the worst. The _worst_ might be if the Big One hits the west coast, the ground opens up and swallows us all. Hmm. Actually, that might solve some stuff, huh? No chance of getting caught then." He tapped his chin, the picture of deep thought in duck-covered socks. "Nah, nevermind. Far too unlikely. Worst case, you get fired."

"Best case scenario, however, you remember what a penis looks like," Alice chimed in cheerfully.

"Very helpful, guys, thanks," I groaned. Jasper chuckled and gave my leg another hard poke.

"I've decided," Alice finally announced. She looked at me proudly and pointed to her choice: smart brown slacks with a gold shirt; wide-necked and sleeveless, lose around my waist but fitted on my hips. Bronze peep-toed pumps with a gold bow, simple black earrings, brown jacket to go over top.

"Alice," I said, the surprise evident in my tone, "that's… modest." I nodded in approval.

"But you lose the jacket for the date," she demanded. I rolled my eyes.

"Well, I must say, it's about damn time, Isabella!" Jasper declared cheerfully. "I'm so stoked for you. A date. I knew ya had it in you."

I cast a deliberate look at Alice, who was putting away the dismissed clothing, then looked pointedly back at Jasper. "You're right, Jazz. I'd definitely say it's about damn time."

Jasper let out a cough and glanced at Alice, who was unaware. Steel grey met brown and he shrugged and chuckled as I smiled. He was too damn cute.

He stood up and gently took Alice by the arm. "Are you done yet, Versace?" She giggled and let him lead her out of the room, apparently not mindful of the late hour. I wondered how much longer he would stay.

_Interesting_.

I rolled over on my side, snuggling down into my covers, for once not using them as a cocoon against horrible thoughts. I felt different. I had given in to my desires, accepted that what I felt for Edward was real and unavoidable, if doomed for failure. The acceptance was oddly freeing, and now I was committed to at least trying not to screw this up… even though I was ninety-nine percent sure that was exactly what was going to happen.

I was genuinely excited.

I slept easily that night, dreamless and deep.

_~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~_

_Wednesday._

_Ding._

**From: Edward Masen.**

I pulled in a ragged breath. I was already worked up and using all of my concentration to keep my face stoic and my knees from bouncing under my desk… and simple e-contact from him was enough to set my heart racing.

_**How has your day been?**_

_Well, Edward – may I call you Edward, fucking finally? – It's been impossible. I can't stop twitching. I have to keep reminding myself to breathe. I might pee my pants in anticipation. How 'bout yours?_

I sighed.

_**Fine, thank you. How about you?**_

I watched him type his response, the muscles in those goddamn forearms twitching and rolling beneath pale skin.

_**Long. It always seems longer when you're anticipating something. **_

My teeth found my lower lip, and my fingers hesitated.

_**Yes**_, I typed._** I know what you mean.**_

His small smile made the knot in my stomach simultaneously loosen and draw tighter.

_**Do you like Italian? Have you ever been to Aro's? **_

Nerves abruptly flared bright white in my stomach. I almost laughed at the irony. Yes, I knew Aro's. It was delicious, quiet, and on my way home, so it was definitely convenient for me. But I had been there recently, for a lunch. A business lunch. With clients. It was highly unlikely that anyone would be there to see me, see us, but…

I shook my head_. Stop being paranoid, Bella. Don't ruin this yet. _I needed to be okay, be calm…

_**I enjoy Italian and yes, I do know that place.**_

_**Great. **_His smile made my chest flutter, momentarily offsetting the bubbling doubts in my stomach._** I have to leave now and stop by a client's office, but would you be okay with meeting me there, when you get off work?**_

I swallowed hard, irrational fears and unlikely scenarios playing out unwelcome in my mind: Mike stalking by, shark smile and beady eyes giddy with this new bit of information. Or Charlie – even though Charlie would have absolutely no business being in my neighborhood – looking through the front window, standing and staring, scowling. Pink slip in hand, even. Or Carlisle and Esme! Oh my god, what if Carlisle and Esme wanted to go out for a nice dinner, and they thought hey, how about we try that nice little Italian place we read about on Yelp…

_Stop. It. Now. _

_**I'll meet you there. **_

Edward stood up. He pushed his sleeves up a little higher on his arms, and in that simple motion I found that suddenly, ridiculously, my suit jacket was way too tight, too hot. Stifling.

He shot me a secret sideways smile as he walked away, through the lobby. He _might_ have sped up just a little bit as he passed Jessica's desk, barely meeting her ravenous stare as he waved distractedly. I couldn't be sure, but I wanted to think so.

I exhaled, trying to find solid ground beneath my heels. And goddamnit, I couldn't help it: my eyes honed in on the clock, drawn like a magnet:

**4:08pm. **

_Dear Jesus._

_~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~_

Aro's was a modest establishment, clean and quiet, if a bit cheesy; tall faux-columns stood against the walls like toy soldiers, plastic grapevines draping down from the tops. However, the food was amazing and it had been a neighborhood staple for years.

As I approached the restaurant, my eyes were unwillingly scrutinizing every car I passed, trying to see if I recognized any of them. Charlie had driven the same classic Oldsmobile 442 for the past thirty years, and the Uleys drove enormous trucks, I knew that… but I had no idea what the Cullens drove. Or Dr. Jenks. Or any of my fucking clients, for that matter… why would I? I'd never had to avoid them before.

I swung into a spot across from the restaurant. My hands were white as they gripped the steering wheel. I willed myself not to sweat, and not to hate myself for obviously being unable to go on a goddamn date without freaking out.

_Please relax,_ my internal voice was begging. _Please don't ruin this before you even step out of your car…_ I pressed my forehead against the steering wheel. _Why are you doing this, anyway? You could just as easily go home… _

That's when I saw Edward sitting on a bench in front of the restaurant, under the awning, out of the soft drizzle. His elbows were resting on his knees, long body pushed forward, hands clasped together as if in supplication. His sleeves were still rolled up, but somewhere along the way he'd lost the tie, and I could barely make out the promise of pale skin through the gap of undone buttons. Voyeuristically, I watched him through the wheel as he leaned back quickly, bringing both hands to his hair; he raked them through the impossible curls, which were copper in the fading light.

My mind went silent, the tumult quieting the minute I saw him. He was really there. This was really happening.

Edward was an oasis; the eye of a storm. The rest of the world spun on and on; a hurricane with wind that rattled windows as the sky boomed commands, but Edward stood alone, untouched. For a moment, I almost believed that he existed wholly for me, to give me the courage to get out of that goddamn car.

I reached for the door handle, but paused in mid-grab. Debated. Agonized.

In one quick movement, I shrugged off the jacket. I knew if I wore it into the restaurant, I might not have the courage to take it off. For Alice's sake, of course.

The water was cold against my bare shoulders as I cut a path across the street, through the soft sheet of rain, toward the restaurant. I focused on him, refusing to turn my head and look around. _There's no one there, Bella. Just look at him._

The minute Edward saw me, a wide smile spread across his dazzling face. I felt a twist in my chest as I drew closer to him, my excitement warring and winning against the absurd urge to hide.

He stood as I approached and stopped directly in front of him. We locked eyes, my head craning up to meet his gaze.

We stood there, staring at one another in the middle of the sidewalk, two statues with identical hesitant grins. The rain fell softly, tapped on the awning overhead and cascaded from the edges in gentle waterfalls. Everything around us was washed in soft grey – the sky, the clouds, the hustling, faceless people – all except his eyes, which leapt out at me green and fresh, like new leaves.

And in that frozen, perfect moment, I wasn't Ms. Isabella Swan. I was a woman, awkward and excited, on a first date. I wanted nothing more than to lose myself, whatever I was, forget everything except him and what he did to me just by standing there.

"I'm glad you came," Edward said softly. His smile was sugar, pink cotton candy; I wondered if he would melt on my tongue. His hand lifted and raked his hair, came to rest on the back of his head and tugged at the curls. A nervous gesture? No way.

"Me, too." My voice was little more than a whisper, but he heard me.

"Bella!"

A voice to my right made me jump, heart stuttering, breath dying in my throat. I quickly turned to face my unwitting saboteur.

"I thought that was you!" I was met with a smiling, oblivious face. It one of Alice's regular clients– Charlotte, I thought? I'd made her acquaintance once or twice. She was walking backward away from our unmoving figures holding a take-out bag, her long red hair bouncing around her shoulders. "I'm so sorry, I'm in a wicked hurry, I just had to say hi…" Her words were pushed together as she pulled on her door handle. "Good to see you, Bella!" She waved cheerfully and climbed into her still-running car.

I watched as she drove away. My hands felt oddly numb as my eyes finally did an unconscious sweep of the area, darting from side to side. I didn't see anyone else that I recognized… but I hadn't seen her, either. She had found me.

I turned my gaze back to Edward, but I felt tighter now, exposed and on alert. My face grew hot, and my shoulders were tense, the muscles in my legs and arms now bunching tight. I wanted to enjoy this, to be with Edward without worrying or fretting or planning, without being me for just a few hours… but I couldn't help what I was, what my body wanted to do.

"Shall we go in?" I hadn't even realized that Edward had moved to open the door until I heard his voice and felt the blast of warm air that came from within the restaurant. I looked at him, at the door he held for me, but didn't move. I swallowed once, hard, as if I could rid myself of the sudden flash of anxiety I was having. Charlotte had seen me; anyone else could be in there.

_Unlikely, Bella. Stop it, please. Just go inside, be normal for once…_

I gave Edward a tight smile and took a step forward… but he surprised me when he shut the door before I could pass through it. I looked up at him, confused. Edward's eyebrows were furrowed, his mouth cocked thoughtfully.

"You hate this, don't you?" he asked gently, his green eyes traveling my face.

"Wha… what?" I stuttered. My face flashed hot again, confusion and adrenaline mixing in my blood, making my heart thud frantically beneath my breasts.

"This whole thing. Being here… you're nervous." He licked his lower lip, absentmindedly raking his teeth over the skin, and even through my hot, twisted nerves my breath caught in my throat; that soft bit of flesh, wet and pliable, trapped between hard white teeth…

_I'm losing it already. And we haven't even sat down yet. Fantastic, Bella. _

"No, I like this place, honestly…" I wanted him to believe it, to see my intentions were normal, and Edward laughed, left hand attacking his hair again.

"But I asked you to come straight from work, without time to decompress… What you do is stressful, and you look so tense. I should have thought of that." He sighed and looked down, shaking his head gently.

I ached to correct him. To tell him that this was my fault, that _I _was the one who was impossibly flawed and this place would have been perfect for someone who had the ability to function as a normal woman… like someone with whom he _should_ be on this date. Someone fun and carefree, who wouldn't care where they went.

Clearly, not me.

"No, it's not you," I admitted softly. I wanted to run away, feel the rain run down my stupid bare shoulders and soak this gold shirt that I felt completely ridiculous in now, flashy and clingy, because I had ruined the date before it had even started. I wanted to disappear, so Edward wouldn't feel like he'd done anything wrong. I wanted…

Edward lifted his head, and his surprising grin stopped my shame-spiral in mid-turn.

"Ms. Swan, are you all that hungry right now?"

My stomach was a solid, heaving mass, a hard ball of knotted wire. It occurred to me that my body might actually outright reject the introduction of food at that moment.

"Not really," I admitted. I could feel my confidence dropping, disappointment flooding my lungs. "So I would totally understand if you wanted to reschedule," I added for his benefit. I wouldn't want to force him to be with someone who was so obviously uncomfortable with… everything. My hands were clenched in tight fists as I studied my shoes: painted leather, silly gold bows. My toes peeped out through the tops. Just pathetic. All of it.

But Edward laughed. "Not a chance I'm letting you get away," he said. I peeked up at him, and he was watching me, body ducked down slightly as if trying to catch my eyes. His grin was mysterious.

"Would you care to go for a run with me?"

My head snapped up to fully meet his gaze, and my heart soared into my throat. I stared at him as, once again, he succeeded in stealing my breath.

"Yes." My response was automatic. Once again, Edward had known exactly what I needed. What my body craved, the comfort I reached for. I already felt so much better, my fingers now curled lightly into loose balls at my sides. "That sounds… perfect."

Edward's smile widened. "Great! What would you think about following the trail around Lake Union?" He raised an eyebrow. "Unless that's too far?"

I stifled a giggle, muscles now loose, brain nearly giddy with relief. The run around Lake Union was about 6.2 miles, nearly a perfect 10k. I could do that in my sleep, but he didn't know that.

"That's a great run. I live in Queen Anne about a mile away from the bottom of South Lake Union Park."

Edward beamed. "Perfect! I live by Rogers Park, about two and a half miles from there… I'll drive home, change and meet you there in, say, fifteen minutes?"

I nodded happily. I honestly couldn't wait to run. With him.

He fell silent, and once again his hand found his hair. "Can I help you to your car?" he asked, a bit sheepishly, and I was touched by his chivalry. I was definitely not used to it, as I was clearly demonstrating with my red cheeks. I saw Edward glance down to them, and smile.

"No thank you, really, I'm right there." I looked into his sparkling eyes, and smiled back him, tentatively. "I'll just meet you there?"

"I can't wait." He backed away before turning and walking briskly to his car. I watched his retreating figure and admired him once again, his shoulders pistoning in turn under grey fabric, his firm ass moving in rhythm with his quick steps. The man had an ass worthy of epic poetry.

_Yes, he's got a great ass. What the hell are you still standing around for?_

I think I might have broken the sound barrier when I made it home in less than five minutes. Practically jumping out of the car while it was still rolling, I stumbled upright before launching myself up the front steps. _Don't twist an ankle, Carl Lewis,_ I thought happily as I threw open the front door. I felt giddy, pumped. Ready.

Alice's head quickly popped up from the couch, face clearly startled, and then Jasper's from other side. Alice mouth opened as if to say something, but Jasper simply smiled at me and turned his attention back to the television. As I rushed past them I saw that Jasper had Alice's tiny ankle in one hand, and was now struggling to hold on to her now-squirming foot while she tried to twist to look at me.

"Bella? What's going on?" she called out at me.

"No time to talk, everything is great!" I responded as I slammed my door. I yanked off the clothes and jewelry, flinging them to the bed as I pulled out running clothes. I was fully dressed again in probably less than sixty seconds.

Hastily, I appraised myself in the mirror above my vanity: my flushed cheeks, my curved lips, my wide, dancing eyes. I looked energetic. Alive. I tried not to dwell on the fact that I hadn't donned my typical loose capris and race t-shirt to run, but rather I had chosen a tight, breathable running tanktop that happened to hug my breasts and waist, and a pair of short jogging shorts that Alice had once said made my legs look, "about a million miles long." My hair was in a messy ponytail, shoulders and neck bare, and in the privacy of my own room I allowed myself a smile, huge and luminous and naked and vulnerable.

_I'm okay. I'm going to be okay. _

I mentally high-fived myself as I slipped my iPhone and key into my pocket before bolting out of the room.

_Go big or go home, Bella. It's time. _

"Damn it Jazz, let me go!" Alice was insisting. I hit the last step and saw Alice struggling to twist out of the death hold Jasper still had on her foot.

"Let her alone, Alice Brandon. The woman is clearly in a hurry!" He laughed at her squeal of protest. "Have fun, Bella!"

_Thank you, Jasper!_ I thought as I flung open the door. "Bye guys!"

It was only about a mile to the park, and I easily made it in the eight minutes I had left. It was a nice warm up for me; I felt my body relax into the steady rhythm that it knew so intimately, the movements my muscles had memorized. I took a deep breath of the cool evening air, thrilled at the turn this night had taken. The light rain didn't chill me, but rather was a welcome contrast against my overheated skin. My bare legs scissored knowingly across darkened cement.

_Thank goodness I shaved today_, I thought cheerfully. I smiled into the wind blowing past my face.

As I approached the park, I saw his silver Volvo and knew he'd beaten me back. I was a little impressed by his ability to navigate Seattle traffic. I looked around the grounds for him, nerves flaring slightly in my stomach, as they always did when I knew he was around; my entire body anticipated seeing him.

I finally spotted him near the water, facing away from me, idly stretching.

My feet dug into the ground as I came to an abrupt stop. I gasped.

It was him. From that first night I was running. No doubt about it: the same white t-shirt, stretched taut across hard back muscles. Same basketball shorts that fluttered around his knees, short socks punctuating hard, knotted calves. His hair was dry now, but it wouldn't be for long… I shivered.

And his tattoo. It was still daylight, and even though the sleeve of his thick shirt covered most of it, I could still see color dripping from below the hem: a streak of curling red, wrapping around his left bicep, green and white and black spilling out onto his skin from the pure white fabric. I licked my lips and tore my eyes away.

It _was_ him I saw, both that night and in my dreams. The thought flew wildly around my head as I approached him.

I cleared my throat. "I hope you haven't been waiting long," I said lamely. He always spoke first… I vowed to try and converse more. One of the many, many things I wanted to work on with him.

Edward turned, and when he saw me his movements visibly stalled. His eyes made an immediate journey down the length of my body. His gaze traveled over my neck, exposed and nude, followed the curve of my breasts and down my stomach where the shirt wrapped me like a second skin, past the flare of my hips and found my bare legs. It was way more flesh than he had ever seen from me – Jesus, more than _I_ had seen from myself in a while – and I felt my skin tighten under his gaze, suddenly more than aware of how little a shirt with a built-in sports bra did to mask erect nipples. My blush must have been blinding. His look did not strike me as rude, however- perhaps because you can't ogle the willing – and he quickly found my eyes again.

He cleared his throat, too. "Not at all, I just got here."

We stood for a moment, shuffling and glancing, eyes drinking in newly exposed skin and unfamiliar cuts of fabric. "So… should we begin, then?"

_Yes. Let's begin. _

"Let's go," I agreed. He turned and began down the path and I fell into step next to him, allowing him to set the pace. His legs were so much longer – one pace of his was almost two of mine – but I kept up with him readily, settling in to a nice, easy cadence.

"Now you tell me if I'm going too fast," Edward said, breaking the silence. "Those legs of yours are having to work pretty hard to keep up with me."

My head swiveled up to look at him, my immediate reaction slight annoyance. But he was watching the path, that crooked smile set on his full lips. He was teasing me.

"I definitely will." Nervousness bubbled and raw energy sang through my veins, but I felt steady. Right. And even feisty. "And you please let me know if you get too tired. It must take a lot of energy to heft all that weight around." I sped up just a little bit, to prove a point.

Edward's laugh thundered next to me, and I hid a smile. Relief rushed through me, flooded my lungs; through all of the fretting I had done today about where we would go, who would see us, I hadn't realized until right then that I'd also been worried that the easy conversation, the seemingly natural ability to converse with him that we experienced at the baseball field had been a glitch. A temporary condition, never to be found again. But now, running beside him, it was still there. Glowing and pulsing between us, this bubble of safety, of light and warmth, a flowing current that picked right back up again where it left off.

Running with Edward was bliss. My feet danced swiftly across the ground, readily finding rhythm that he gave me. I felt free and confident, sure in my actions. Of course, he had no idea what running was to me and what it had meant to me in the past: accomplishment and pride, then punishment for crimes I was born to commit, escape, comfort and strength that nothing or no one else provided. But with Edward, the action was intimate, sustaining. We moved through the gentle misty rain together, panting softly, our bodies growing hotter with each step.

We made small talk as we ran, about our work day, clients, the news. A careful mix of professional and private. He told me about Emmett and how ridiculous he looked whenever he had to sit in a cubicle. I giggled at the thought of humongous Emmett, who according to Edward was also a serious runner, sitting in a tiny prison with cloth walls. I told him about Alice and how physically she was the exact opposite of Emmett, but I had heard stories that she had made male clients three times her size cry and mused that it would be pretty funny to see them race. Edward laughed.

"I'd like to meet your Alice," he said carefully.

I looked up at him for the first time in a few miles, and my pounding heart had nothing to do with the run.

Edward was soaked. His white shirt was plastered to his chest, hard lines defined clearly under wet cotton. With every stride his pectoral muscles bounced, flexing and straining beneath the dampness. The shirt stuck to his flat stomach, trim waist twisting gently in time to his steps. His skin was wet with sweat and rain, polished marble, cheeks slightly pink against the cold air. His hair – oh god of all that is good – it was getting wet now, curls dampened and wild, lying against his forehead, curling at his neck.

It was every fantasy I'd had of him since that night, and he was right there, within reaching distance. I almost lost my stride as I drank him in, and my tongue darted out to seek moisture, knowing his neck was wet enough to quench my parched mouth… I wondered if he tasted salty or sweet right then, or both, like warm rain or salted caramel. Perhaps his skin would be hot under my cool lips, burning as I nibbled and licked…

_Holy shit, you're going to goddamn come if you don't knock it off. _The thought wasn't that far off; the repetitive stride was causing a delicious friction between my legs, and I was throbbing, aching. I struggled to form a complete thought that wasn't x-rated.

"I don't think I could prevent you from meeting Alice at this point," I said honestly. "She's a little… persistent, and she will definitely insist on meeting you now." _Shit_. _Assuming much, Bella?_ "That is, if you want to, I mean. Meet her. In the future. Not like you have to." _Oh god shut up shut up shut up…_ I bit my tongue harshly, trying to stop the rush of words. It occurred to me once again how out of control he made me feel. How dangerously nonchalant I was with my words, where they were once so carefully rationed out.

Edward chuckled. "I have to meet her. I've seen her at the bar with you, but I still kind of doubt she's real." He then heaved a dramatic sigh. "That is, if we ever finish this run."

_Hmm_. "Pardon?" I asked, shifting my gaze sideways without moving my head. I could see his coy smile from the corner of my eye.

"I mean, this pace is great and all, it's just a little… leisurely." His voice was dripping with good-natured sarcasm, and I knew he was trying to provoke me. "Which is fine and all… I have no problem running at your speed, I just…"

But I was already sprinting before he finished his sentence, my legs driving hard into the ground, breaking the smooth surface of formed puddles as I pulled away. I heard him coming behind me, and I knew his long legs would close the gap quickly, so I jumped off the path, ducking under a tree and cutting through bushes before I met with the worn trail again. I was very familiar with this route, knew where I could cut through to shorten the course. I laughed as I heard his surprised, "Hey!" behind me, and I kept going, relishing the feel of endorphins pumping through my veins, my limbs crying for the speed, the release. We'd already gone almost five miles, and I was great, more than great, flying high on excitement and adrenaline and _him_.

Edward was suddenly right behind me, and I slowed deliberately; I could hear his breath, just slightly louder than before, and my smile was slightly smug.

"Was that better?" I asked sweetly, my voice even and pant-free.

"That was… fine," Edward said, obviously trying a little bit to keep his words smooth. "If you want to slow down now, for your sake…" I took a few sprinting paces again, and Edward laughed, "Okay! We can slow down now for my sake." I settled back down to his side, and we both caught each other's eyes and laughed.

I felt… amazing. _I could get used to this._

"You're like a cheetah over there," Edward said, the awe in his voice embarrassing for me. I shook my head, hid my cheeks. "How do you do that?"

I could see the parking lot now ahead of us, and I felt a little sad that we were almost done. I slowed down just a little bit more, suddenly afraid of what would happen next. We would go to dinner, probably? Or would he just want to go home, to shower and change? I didn't want this to end… shit, should _I_ ask _him_ if he wanted to grab something to eat? And would that be ridiculous with both of us covered in sweat?

_One thing at a time, Bella. Answer his question first. _

"I've been running since high school," I said. "It feels… natural. I feel most at ease when I'm running." I was exhilarated; I had an opportunity to tell him something about me that I was truly proud of, something I had never gotten to tell anyone besides Alice. "In college, I was on the University track and field team my freshman year."

"Really?" Edward sounded impressed. "I want to hear about it." My chest felt full, bold courage pushed at my margins, warping my tight borders. I _wanted_ to tell him more.

"It was actually really cool…" I started, and, holy hell, I didn't cringe at my usage of such a juvenile word, so non-professional. Casual. I mean, if I used it in real life, why wouldn't I let him hear me say it? I wanted Edward to know the real me… and I was already thinking way too much about one word.

I pressed on, not really noticing that we were in a particularly muddy part of the path. "I tried out on a whim one day after class, and I made the team." Edward was watching me intently, and I was encouraged, feeling more in-control of the situation. I felt a little cocky, even. "I had always been a decent runner, especially endurance length races, and so…"

I had been doing so well. I was relaxed and pliable, arms swinging and heart thumping. I was pleased that I was able to talk so freely about a subject that had a lot of negative memories attached to it. I was sharing. I was pushing my safety zone…

I was not paying attention to the child on the bicycle until I was practically on top of him.

I saw Edward's eyes widen, green flashing with alarm as too late I turned my face forward just in time to see the boy, probably about six years old and wearing a Mariners cap, looking up at me with an equally surprised expression. He'd ridden into the path, and I was on a collision course.

"Look out!" Edward cried while simultaneously shifting his weight toward me. Just like before, I felt Edward's hands wrap around my waist, encircling me almost completely. He jerked me backward and sideways, narrowly missing the kid as he passed through the path, unharmed. I, however, was thrown off-kilter and my feet slipped on the wet ground, making my legs fly out from under me, my momentum propelling me forward.

I was going down… and I was taking Edward with me.

_Holy shit_, I had time to think as the ground rushed up to meet me. _It's like a fucking three stooges movie. _

But Edward, ever the gentleman, once again thought to save me. He was still holding me around my middle, and he twisted us in mid-air so that he was situated to take the brunt of the fall.

We hit the ground with a wet slap. As he had orchestrated, I landed mostly on him, with only my right knee connecting hard with the ground. He, unfortunately, was an entirely different story. He was laid out flat on his back in the cold, wet mud, white shirt now the color of used coffee grounds. His arms were holding me carefully away from the dirt.

The kid cried out, "Sorry!" as he rode away in a hurry.

This all took place in less than five seconds.

_No. No way. _

I shook my head, hard, but I didn't wake up. I didn't come back from a day-dream. The cold and wet and humiliation were crisp and real. My brain slowly faced reality.

I was now completely frozen, lying safely on Edward's stomach. His hard, flat stomach. An utterly inappropriate time to be noticing the firmness of his abs, but I think my shocked mind could only process one thing at a time and I really didn't want to acknowledge that Edward was lying on the ground, covered in filth, solely because I was a complete dumbass and almost took out a first grader because I was too wrapped up in telling my self-serving story to watch where the fuck I was going.

_Oh. Sweet. Baby. Jesus._

"Well." Edward spoke first. I continued to sit immobile on top of him, staring dumbly down at his face. He was looking up at the sky. I was focused on a smear of mud on his right cheek that ran down his face, over his ear, disappeared into his hair. Edward's eyes rotated to mine, and his smile made the mud a curve along his face. "We should call Cirque du Soleil. I think people would pay to see that."

"I…" Both of my hands were pressed to his chest, and my eyes darted back and forth between his. I was too mortified to even enjoy our proximity. "I am so, indescribably sorry." I shook my head and pushed away, scrambling shakily to my feet. I held out a hand to him and he took it, hoisting himself off the ground.

"Oh god," I moaned miserably. He was a mess. His entire back was caked with wet mud, shorts soaked with it. His legs were dirty disasters, and his hair – oh god his poor hair – it was matted flat to the back of his head. He was filthy, and it was all because of me and my big loose fucking mouth.

But Edward laughed as he rubbed his hands over his arms, trying to scoop off some of the thick goo. "I haven't been this dirty in a while!" he said brightly. There was no hint of anger in his voice, no annoyance or frustration.

My hands twitched out to him, wanting so badly to help, to touch him, but I retracted them just as quickly; I didn't want to make things worse, like I inevitably would. Edward glanced at me and must have seen my stricken expression because he smiled and me, and it was insistent and real. "Hey, seriously, don't worry about it. This is not a big deal."

"You're all muddy!" I stated the obvious, my voice nearly shaking. I felt deflated. I couldn't believe what I had done.

"Hey, you got it a little bit, too," Edward said, gesturing to my leg. Sure, enough, my right leg was streaked with mud where it had hit the ground, but nothing like he had. I shook my head, and when I looked back up at him he was inspecting the damage on himself again. "Hmm," he hummed thoughtfully. "I can't get back into my car like this, so I'll probably have to go home, shower, then come back…"

I was miserable. Not only had I basically shoved him into a mud puddle on our first date – if he even wanted to call it that at this point, since my insecurities had almost ruined it before it had started – but now he had to walk an extra two and half miles home covered in drying, disgusting mud.

To top it off, I had successfully brought this attempt at a date to an abrupt and awkward end.

_I would have expected nothing less, _Isabellasneered_. _

"Oh, I can't tell you how sorry I am," I said again, but it felt so insignificant. _My one consolation: he can't possibly hate me more than I hate myself right now, _I thought.

"I…" Suddenly, I blurted out the first thing that came to my mind, before it had time to filter through my censors. "I live less than a mile from here. At least come get cleaned up first, so you don't have to walk home like that."

_What??_

"Un-unless you'd rather just go home," I stammered, "which I would totally understand…"

Edward's crooked grin made me feel even worse, because of how much I loved it. Why was he smiling at me like that when I'd just destroyed the good time we were having?

"Are you sure that you wouldn't mind? I might get this crap all over your floor…"

"No, please." My mind was reeling from what was coming out of my mouth, and I questioned briefly whether somehow I had actually hit my head on the way down. "I just… I want to try and make it up to you."

"That sounds great, thank you." Edward nodded, and I nodded too, mimicking him in my panic. "But really, you don't have anything to make up to me." His green eyes pierced me, and I tried to hide the chill that ran through my body. "It's not always your fault, Ms. Swan."

I had nothing to say. He was trying to make me feel better, but I knew whose fault it was. On numb legs I started to walk in the direction of my place, and Edward followed next to me, still trying to chafe as much of the mud off of himself as he could. I swallowed hard and concentrated on placing one foot in front of the other as I assessed the situation.

Edward was covered in mud because I had tripped him like a complete moron.

I had just invited him to my house.

To, of all possible things, take a shower.

_Holy. Fuck. _

* * *

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	13. Chapter 12

**My betas: **

**Allison, you're brilliant. And amazing. Thank you. **

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**I don't own Twilight. **

**Without further ado… **

* * *

_Bella_.

As Edward tried to scrape handfuls of mud from his extremities, a face flashed through my mind: round and bright, painted with surprise, confusion, shock, finally… delight.

_Alice_.

I momentarily occupied my shaking hands by tapping out a panicked text.

_**Alice, are you at home right now? **_

_**Nope. We went to Jasper's. Whyyy? **_

One less thing to worry about. I could just see the rest of this nightmare I was currently living: Alice pulling me aside to offer support of me and my _feelings_, Jasper walking through the background in a robe and military boots, all while Edward silently gooped mud all over our floor.

_**Stay there, please. I'll tell you later.**_

She answered immediately:

_**I'm a goddamn psychic. =)**_

I shook my head, my wet hair painting my neck and shoulders with cold strokes.

Edward had rid himself of the worst of the muck. The still-falling drizzle was preventing the mud from drying; his skin and shirt was streaked with dark brown, paint haphazardly flung at a white wall. I couldn't exactly be a vision myself; makeup was probably smudged, cute little running outfit sweaty and mud-speckled and completely inappropriate for the havoc I just wreaked. I couldn't imagine… I didn't _want_ to imagine. I shook my head again.

"Everything okay?" Edward asked. _He's asking _me_?_

"Yes." I put my phone back in my pocket and fussed with my shorts, my legs were suddenly far too bare. "I was making sure Alice wasn't home. She, ah… she's overly helpful, sometimes." Edward laughed.

We walked the rest of the way in charged silence. I hoped it wasn't as miserable for him as it was for me.

When we arrived at my house, I willed my hands steady as I worked to fit the key in the lock. I was hyper-aware of everything around me: the cool air on my thighs, the hard goosebumps that dotted my bare arms, and of every move Edward made behind me: hot breaths, silent blinks, the drops of sweat and rain that glistened at his temples.

Mostly, I was simply aware that Edward Masen was standing on my front step, waiting for me to open the door to my home.

So he could shower.

Because, of course, I had thrown him into the mud.

_This is so humiliating. _

Poking my head through the door, I swallowed a relieved sigh: Alice had cleaned up. It's not like our place was ever dirty, but now it was spotless: cushions were fluffed, her dumbbells hidden, all cowboy hats properly stowed.

"You have a nice place," Edward said from behind me, velvet voice cutting through my thoughts. He was still standing outside the door, in the cold.

"Oh!" I stepped inside and waved my hands about, too wildly to be considered cool. "Please, come in."

Edward thoughtfully toed off his shoes and stepped into my entryway, and once again I had to catch my breath. He was here, in my house. Not just in front of it, standing by his car… but _in_ it. The man from my newly-awakened dreams, who haunted me during my waking hours as well as the night. Live and talking… and covered in freaking mud.

_What the fuck do you think you're doing, Bella_? I tried to stomp down the harsh voice that whispered in my ear. _A restaurant was one thing; a neutral location, equal ground… but your fucking home? He'll see something in here, something you don't want to talk about…_

"Follow me," The words drifted from my lips like smoke, wispy and unsubstantial.

Edward stepped carefully behind me, trying his best not to drip water and mud on the rug. Always painfully considerate, even when mud on my carpet was probably the very _least_ of what I deserved for this situation.

In my hours of obsessive planning and fretting over how this date would turn out, I would have never, in a million years, pictured it leading us here.

He followed me through the kitchen, past the table where just last night I had sat, hunched, head in my hands, texting this muddy Adonis behind me. I stopped in front of the guest bathroom, which was in a shallow hallway adjacent to the back door, and turned to face him.

I absentmindedly scanned Edward's frame, from his damp white socks, all the way up to his muddy curls and his glittering eyes. _Fuck_. He looked incredible, even covered in filth. _Double fuck_. I silently devoured every inch of him,

Edward was silent, quietly dripping onto my kitchen floor… waiting patiently for me to speak. I blushed when I realized that I had just eye-fucked him, quite shamelessly.

"So, here's the shower. Where you can… um, shower." My hands fluttered uselessly, as if I could wave the awkward away. "There are towels in there, and soap, and… a tub?"

_Shut up. Shut up. Shut up._

My mind was skipping like a vinyl record. In a flash of genius, I blurted out, "Your clothes are dirty." _Nice_. "I could, ah, wash them for you? But in the washer, not by hand."

My mouth just wouldn't stop moving as I gestured needlessly to the machines that sat quite predominantly across from the bathroom. My hands flew to my forehead and grasped at nothing, as my bangs were trapped in my ponytail. I was fidgeting, and I knew he saw it. "You can take off your… _those_, and, put them outside the door. I'll find you something to wear?" _For the love of god, Bella, channel your inner sane person and get it together. Please._

_On second thought, nevermind. Just kill me. I'll finally be quiet, and he can show himself out. _

But Edward just stood there, his small grin like cool water in my desert of shame and panic. His eyes held me still, and I finally, _finally_ shut up. He chuckled, the sound coming deep from his chest.

"Somehow, I doubt I'll fit into any of your clothes. Unless your Alice is deceptively tall." His eyes were snapping, green sparks burning low in my stomach. The smear of mud on his cheek had dried the color of ash. He was still gorgeous.

And here.

With me.

I laughed nervously, but his gentle teasing cleared my head slightly, allowed me to draw breath deep into my lungs. "No, you probably wouldn't. Fit. In my pants. Or anything else…" I winced and continued, "But I think Jasper left some gym clothes here, I'll grab them."

Edward nodded, and stepped toward me.

The hallway between the bathroom and laundry was narrow, and I shifted sideways to accommodate him. We both rotated a quarter turn, moving together like dance partners, until we ended up facing each other in the tight space.

I drew in another deep breath and smelled sweat and earth and cotton and man; my head spun in lazy circles. I stared up at him. Inappropriately, I wanted to reach up and rub at the dried dirt, brush the copper stubble and hear it rasp beneath the pad of my finger.

"Thank you, Ms. Swan," he exhaled, words fanning over my nose and cheeks. I could only blink up at him stupidly as he smiled. As I watched him slip into the bathroom and gently close the door, I wondered if he had any idea how devastating those lips were.

O_h shit oh shit oh shit…_

I shoved open Alice's door and fell to my knees on the plush purple rug in front of her dresser. I avoided the bottom drawer – always an off-limits zone from rifling, even from your best friend – but checked the one above. Sure enough, I recognized Jasper's cut-off sweats and shirt from the gym… and I moaned.

_No_.

The pants were innocuous, but the shirt…

_Don't do this to me_.

I slapped my palm flat against on my forehead.

It was bright blue, and it had a gigantic picture of the Cookie Monster's face on the front.

_How could I have forgotten that detail?_ I had stared at Cookie's face for three hours just this last Saturday at the gym. _How, Bella? How?_

I rummaged around frantically for something else, _anything_ else, but came up empty-handed. _Nothing_ Alice or I owned would come close to fitting Edward… so I was stuck with the fucking ridiculous Cookie Monster.

Edward's muddy clothes were in a neat stack on the floor outside the bathroom, and the shower was running steadily behind the now seemingly very thin wood. I stared at the door, dry clothes held loosely in my hand.

He was in there, under the warm spray. _Right now_. Water was probably blazing hot trails down his back, over his ribs, along the insides of his thighs.

_Where did he start,_ I wondered, my thoughts rolling like loose marbles. Did he lather his chest first, rubbing wide circles over flat muscles? I swallowed_. Or perhaps his arms_… bare and wet, the unmarked skin flushed harsh red between the colorful stories that marked his flesh as he scrubbed and smoothed…

And I realized that I was standing in front of my spare bathroom, staring slack-jawed at a closed door.

_Clearly, I'm insane._

I stuffed the soiled clothes into the washer, spun the dial, and took the stairs two at a time up to my room.

Once safely inside, I pressed my back against the wooden door… but the motion instantly brought back images of tree bark beneath my fingers, along with heat and aching and throbbing. I struggled to focus, chest heaving, legs jelly. My eyes darted wildly around the room. I could see myself in the mirror: my makeup was intact, but my hair was a mess of loose curls, cheeks were too red, eyes too wide, shirt dotted with the dried brown evidence of my humiliation; Edward had definitely borne the brunt of the damage.

_Clean? _

_Shower?_

My brain momentarily focused, and the word slowly morphed into a complete thought. _I should shower._

I shed my clothes in a hurry and leapt into the tub. The warm spray shocked me as it caressed my shoulder blades, beading off my breasts and tracing the angles of my hip bones, warming cold-deadened toes. Water danced around my feet, thin lines of tan and russet swirling and disappearing down the drain.

_Hey! Edward is naked! _I remembered pointlessly.

I pressed my forehead into the smooth tiles and closed my eyes in surrender.

How in the fuck did a simple dinner after work turn into tag-team naked showertime?

As hard as I tried to find my famous discipline, I couldn't get the image of nude Edward out of my head: smooth and wet and hard and colorful…of big hands wrapping around my waist, lifting me effortlessly, pressing me back into the steam-slick tiles so we were separated only by sheeting water washing away the last of my doubts…

With a start, I realized that my hand had found my breast, fingers gently pinching my puckered nipple. The other hand rested on my stomach, tracing light circles lower and lower.

My eyes opened with a snap. _Am I nuts?_ Nuts or a pervert. _Holy god._

I finished my shower in minutes and quickly found myself again standing in my room, dripping and stumped. After a run, I normally would have thrown on a pair of sweats and a hoodie without a second thought. But now I hesitated: I had no idea how much longer Edward would be here… and that thought brought on a whole new wave of worries, of emotions. I whimpered softly, drawing the towel tighter to my body.

_I don't want him to go_. The thought was pathetic. Sickening. This date had ended in disaster, but selfishly I wanted him to stay here, with me; to all me to take the odd comfort he seemed to radiate when I felt lost, frantic… like right now.

_Stop it, Bella_. I immediately chastised myself. _He'll leave when he's ready… and that's probably very soon. _

I pulled on a pair of soft cotton capris and a fitted white t-shirt. Basic. Plain. I refused to think about it anymore. _He most likely doesn't give a shit what I'm wearing. He just wants to leave._ He had wanted to go home at the park, after I practically threw a bucket of mud on him, but I insisted that he come here. _He's probably staring at the washing machine, willing it to spin faster. _

I checked my reflection again, and there I was, in all my humiliated, tired, nervous glory: now-naked brown eyes and black lashes, cheeks red and shining, damp hair loosely pulled back in a clip. I deserved to look like this: like nothing special.

I needed to calm down, get myself under control. Focus. And not fall down the stairs.

Edward was already in the living room, standing outside the kitchen door. He was looking around but politely remaining still, hands clasped behind his back. When he heard me coming he looked up, eyes quietly finding mine as I descended.

Green met brown across the expanse of the quiet room. With more subtlety than before, my eyes traced the lines of his body. He was clean and fresh, tall and smooth. Hair darker than normal, a damp mess that curled around his ears and framed his face. His torso a broad 'v', tapering to narrow hips and solid thighs… I didn't dare look lower. I wasn't sure if I would find my way back.

I forced my feet to continue moving as Edward stared back at me, his expression unreadable. I shifted my weight between my feet and mentally shuffled through my vocabulary.

How does one express, _Hey! We were both just naked. How did that go for you?_

Edward's face broke into a smirk. He grabbed the bottom of the shirt, which was clearly two sizes too small, and pulled Cookie Monster's face taut. He glanced down, then back up at me, quirking an eyebrow as he peered at me from under long lashes.

"Yeeeah…" I gave my now-free bangs a firm tug and tuck. "Jasper makes some bold fashion choices." At least the sweats seemed to fit him fine; they were slung low around his lean hips, but they were a bit snug on his thighs and around his…

My eyes snapped back up, and I swallowed gravel. The air between us was suddenly electric with tension, the silence vibrating.

"Your clothes are in the wash," I stated, despite the fact that the running washer was the most prominent noise in the house. _Smooth_.

"Great, thanks," Edward said. He didn't move. Stayed still as a statue, waiting for me to make a move.

A sighed escaped from my lungs before I could stop it. "I'm so, so sorry," I blurted out. "I can't believe… that. Any of it. What a way to end our night, huh?" I laughed, but it was clearly humorless, thick with forced nonchalance. I hesitated in still calling this whole mess a date. Dates don't typically end in mud suits and forced bathing.

"Huh." Edward nodded, and I clenched my teeth as he looked down at his bare feet. "That's interesting."

"What?"

"I didn't know our date was already over."

My eyes clicked together in shock. I felt a small rush of hope breach the heavy black brick in my chest, an infinitesimal trickle of light. I very nearly smiled.

Finally, I managed to breathe out, "Oh." _Again, smooth_.

"Unless you want it to be over," Edward continued. "Because I truly appreciate the shower, and I can walk back to my car now…"

"No!" The sound was explosive across the living room floor, and my flush was immediate as I took an involuntary step toward him. I paused and wracked my brain for something brilliant to say – _You should wait for your clothes, _or_ I could drive you back to your car _– but nothing came out. That stupid word just hung there, between us, inexcusably pathetic.

Because I had no excuse. I just wanted him to stay.

"Good," Edward said softly, "because I believe that I promised you Italian tonight."

I immediately thought about my plain cotton pants, my bare face, how naked I looked and felt… but Edward lifted a piece of paper, and I recognized it as a coupon from a local pizzeria.

I laughed. I couldn't help it. I was so relieved that he wasn't upset or anxious to leave. Edward smiled and I didn't know how I was going to focus for the rest of the night if he kept doing that.

_How. The fuck. Does he do that?_

"Pepperoni and mushroom acceptable?" I nodded. "Delivery, yeah?" Edward patted Cookie Monster, who rested happily across his broad chest. "As awesome as this shirt is, I might only want you to see me in it."

I suddenly needed a drink.

"Would you like some wine?"_Because holy shit I would._ He nodded, phone already pressed to his ear.

In the kitchen, I opened a bottle and poured two generous glasses of cabernet sauvignon. _I need to calm the fuck down, like, fifteen minutes ago._

Edward was sitting on my couch. He left arm stretched casually over the back, shirt pulled taut and riding up his bicep. I paused, silently studying the exposed flesh. The too-small shirt revealed more of his ink, and I wanted so badly to peel back the rest of that damn blue sleeve: a ribbon of red was etched on his skin, lying across a black and white pattern… a checkerboard? _Dammit, just a little higher… _

Another thought burst into my head:_ I wonder if he'll ever see mine? _

Edward turned his head, interrupting my thoughts and catching me in mid-stare. My cheeks immediately reddened as I handed him his drink and sat down, avoiding his amused stare. The rim of my glass was evidently fascinating. I took a big sip.

The silence was consuming and it cloaked me entirely, pinched at my thin skin with insistent fingers.

"So," Edward started, breaking the stillness. He settled back against the cushions. "How do you find time for your part-time job?"

I cocked my head at him, not following. I thought for a moment I really was losing it. "Huh?"

"Your part-time job?" He took a casual sip of wine. "Moonlighting as a mud wrestler? You're very aggressive."

I nearly choked, but then I saw Edward's smirk, the shape of which I was beginning to recognize.

"Oh, god," I moaned. I rubbed my neck with my free hand, and his eyes followed the movement. "I seriously can't tell you how embarrassed I am about all of this."

"Why?" he asked. I allowed myself to give him an obvious _are you kidding_ look, but he laughed. "Please, don't be. I have never had such an interesting first date, ever."

He took another sip of his drink. "I can't wait to see how you top it next time."

My heart stuttered beneath my ribs.

Edward had changed plans at the restaurant because of my obvious and pitiful discomfort. He'd suggested we run because somehow he knew it was what I needed to relax. He'd saved me from a muddy fall, and then proceeded to accompany me back to my house, get naked, _and_ still offer to buy me dinner.

He was perfect. And I was a menace.

But I wanted there to be a next time so badly my arms ached to grab the thought, clutch it to me, wrap it around my shoulders and legs.

I managed to nod.

"Cheers, then." He raised his wine. "To changed plans."

We clinked glasses, and in that musical sound my muscles found permission to slowly release. Edward gently encouraged me, and we soon began to talk of trivial things: how I liked the neighborhood, how long I had owned this house. We spoke of celebrity scandals; I was surprised how much Edward knew, he said it helped him relate when he was out in offices, to make small talk while waiting for servers to come back up. As the wine snaked its way from my stomach to my extremities, we spoke of Cookie Monster and the creepy way he would pretend to eat cookies by just pulverizing them in his black puppet maw. It was actually kind of disturbing, we decided.

The doorbell rang just as I was pouring us each another glass. After our run and the fact that I hadn't really eaten a proper lunch on account of raging anxiety, the wine was certainly doing its job of relaxing my over-stimulated nerves. I was just grateful that I wasn't babbling anymore.

I sat back and watched him speak to the delivery boy, finally feeling more relaxed than I had all night. Edward insisted on paying for dinner, and I did not miss the fact that he gave the young delivery guy a huge tip. I groaned internally. He was generous, too. _Of course._

To my delight, the conversation continued to flow freely as we ate in the living room, only pausing when I went to go switch his clothes to the dryer. I bit back a grin the entire time he was out of my sight.

I paused in the kitchen, appraising the wine rack thoughtfully._ Would he even want more? _A thick fog of doubt rolled clumsily through my good mood. He would probably go home soon; he couldn't want to stay too much longer. What if he's just dying to leave? _Ugh_.

I shut my eyes tightly and shook my head. The ghost of Alice whispered in my ear: _You're gonna talk yourself out of it if you keep this up, and you want this. So stop._

I hesitated only a moment more before grabbing another bottle and walking resolutely back into the living room.

Edward was lounging back on the cushions, long fingers tracing the stem of his empty glass: up and down, up and down, stroking a firm rhythm on the smooth surface. All moisture disappeared from my mouth.

"Oh shit, how rude of me," he said, beginning to stand. "Please, let me help you clean up…" I motioned for him to sit, and a small giggle slipped unbidden past my lips. I liked hearing him curse… it proved that he was human, and not some man-god sent to destroy me and my professional career.

"There isn't anything really to clean up." I tentatively raised the bottle, slightly ashamed I'd even grabbed it. "Um… would you like some more wine?"

Edward grinned, crooked and sweet, and it settled hot between my thighs. "Sure, I'd love some more," he answered, velvet voice causing my hands to tremble.

_Oh I want to give it to you, trust me._

Holy shit, even my internal monologue was joining the party.

I watched his throat work as he swallowed the liquid. Edward licked his lips, pink tip of his tongue finding the corner, licking a drop of red that had come to rest there. I knew right then he was, in fact, trying to kill me.

The wine was crawling through my veins on spindly legs, spinning dizzy webs in its wake. My stomach was full of greasy, delicious pizza and my muscles felt as if they were liquefying. I relaxed back into the couch, head falling back onto the cushions. My thoughts swam backstrokes through the red courage in my glass.

I turned my head and once again caught a glimpse of Edward's arm: thick and tight, swirling colors taunting me from beneath the blue fabric. I was fairly certain that his arms were stretching Jazz's shirt, but I just couldn't find it in me to care. I was very grateful for Jasper's lean build.

_As much as I like that grey button-up_, I thought lazily, _I prefer him in t-shirts. _

"You like the grey one?" Edward's voice startled me from my thoughts. "That one is a bit loose on my wrists… but if you really like it, I'll go buy ten."

"What?" I asked, but before the word was completely out of my mouth my eyes went wide, cheeks scarlet, and my mind found painful clarity.

I'd spoken aloud. _I'm tipsy and speaking my secret fantasies out-loud. Fuck. Me._

Edward laughed softly. "You are a mystery, Ms. Swan."

He had propped an elbow on the back of the couch, fist pressed to his temple. His grin was more intoxocating than the wine: playful and sweet. Even though time and time again I spoke without thinking, his smile was sweet on my tongue, offsetting any bitter embarrassment.

"Me?" I was still nearly smothering under the shame of my unintentional confession. "I think it's pretty clear what I am," I said softly. Blue sadness licked at the edges of my words.

"Hardly." His eyes burned through mine. "I have so many questions for you."

_Oh lord, anything to change the subject from my idiocy._ "Ask away," I said, too quickly. Edward quirked an eyebrow, and I felt a surge of… something. Anticipation. Boldness, perhaps.

"Ask me anything," I reiterated, a little quieter than before. The words tasted dangerous, and I relished the unfamiliar flavor.

"Okay." Edward shifted, and he twirled the glass between his fingers. It was a struggle to concentrate on his eyes, and not focus solely on his moving digits. "What's your favorite color?"

"Green," I responded immediately. It was true, at the moment. It was all I saw.

"What is your favorite season?"

"Summer," I said cautiously. A smile threatened my lips.

Edward laughed. "Okay, those were warm ups." He cast a glance around the room. "I noticed that you don't have a lot of pictures around."

_Oh_.

I was momentarily stunned by his intuitiveness, his ability to see straight through my armor and pick up on things I tried to keep so carefully hidden… things I might not have even realized _were_ hidden...

"I've seen one or two of you and Alice, but no family pictures." He laughed. "Don't girls usually love that kind of stuff?"

I felt bad that the first real thing he asked me had to be a bit of a heavy subject. I swallowed a mouthful of bravery, trying to bear in mind that he was asking a simple question, in earnest. No big deal. _Just answer the question._

"We're not big on taking pictures in this household." A chewed my lip. "Mostly Alice."

"Oh?" His vowel was unassuming, without pressure to continue.

My fingers picked at the ties on my pants, and I tried to stop myself from saying too much. "Alice lost both her parents when she was very young, and as a kid she bounced around foster homes quite a bit."

_Why am I telling him this?_

Confused at myself, I continued, "She didn't like taking photos because the people around her never stayed the same, so she figured, why bother remembering them?" I shrugged. "I think she also didn't like the idea of them having her picture after she was gone. She would prefer they forget they ever knew her, just like she would forget them."

"That's… sad," Edward said gently. He was watching me closely, and his eyes did indeed look a little dimmer, subdued. His face was arranged in its typical calm expression, but his eyes… I was beginning to know him through his eyes, to understand they were the key to reading his thoughts.

"She's okay now. She ended up with an elderly aunt in her early teens, and things got much better for her. More secure. And she has me now. She'll even take the occasional picture with me now…" I pointed to the top of the television: a candid of us I had taken during our semester abroad in Germany. Alice's sweet smile was tentative; my face was half-hidden in her hair. I loved that picture; it made me smile. "Of course, we had to get pretty drunk for her to take that one with me..."

I cringed. _I am saying waaaay too much_.

"That explains Alice…" Edward said, "But what about you? Where are your pictures…?" He stopped in mid-thought and waved his hand. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to harp on this subject; I just realized I'm being kind of weird." He laughed. "Trust me, I have plenty of other questions."

"No," I quietly insisted. "It's alright." My teeth worried at my lower lip as I tried to figure out what to tell him.

Sure, I had photos. I had taken a professional portrait every six months or so as I was growing up, which quickly ended up occupying another square on Charlie's study wall. You could see the subtle changes as I aged: my smile grew steadily colder, stiffer; plastic taking the place of ignorant, blissful youth. I hated taking those stupid pictures. They reminded me of boredom, of loneliness, of Renee constantly promising to take me to my appointments. However, when the scheduled date would approach, in Renee's place would be one of a million excuses: Sorry honey, big designing client in Albuquerque. Month-long yoga retreat in New York. Business seminar in Dallas. Next time, okay?

When her trips got longer than three months at a time, she stopped with the excuses all together. It was better that way.

With a start, I realized thatEdward was watching me and I had no idea how long I had been silent. _Fuck. _

"I do have one picture."

_What?_

My brain was having a tough time keeping up with my instinct to share with him. My walls that I'd ever carefully built were still standing firm, but right then I was willingly stepping out from behind my barriers; violating my code, my militant control. I was about to show him… me.

"You do?"

I stood up on shaking legs and crossed the room to the bookcase, and pulled out a familiar 6x4 frame without looking at it. I thrust it into Edward's hand before I could change my mind.

"Its, ah… that." I blushed as he studied it, fingers tracing the perimeter of the frame, and blushed hotter as it occurred to me that Edward was holding probably the most personal thing I owned. The vulnerability was stark.

"You were cute. What were you, nine? Ten?" My flush spilled onto my neck as I nodded. "Mr. Swan hasn't changed much. Is this your mother?"

"Yes," I affirmed quietly. "Renee." I swirled my glass, holding the miniature whirlpool above my palm.

"Why don't you put this picture out?"

_Because I can't stand to look at it. _

"I just… don't." I hated that I couldn't find the words, that I was stepping back… but it was a little too much, too soon, and my head was spinning slightly and I wished I hadn't drank all this fucking wine. _I do this too much around him_, I decided. _Use alcohol to calm down. I want to calm down on my own next time. _

_Next time?_

Edward simply nodded and handed the picture back to me. I set it on the floor face-down, hiding the smiling figures from sight.

"You know, this exercise is a two way street." His hand found its way to his hair, and I nearly gasped at the assault on my senses: the muscles jumping under the exposed skin of his arm, the warmth from his knee bent only inches from mine, the fact that I knew exactly what he tasted like right then, sharp tannin and tangy tomato sauce.

_I don't deserve his patience,_ I thought. I was suddenly intensely grateful to him, for feeling my frustration, ignoring my shortcomings and my inability to have a freaking conversation without shutting down. For pretending like he didn't see how scared I was, all the time.

The question was out of my mouth before I could filter it out.

"What scares you?"

Edward looked surprised, and I felt a compulsion to clarify. "Or maybe a time you were scared." _Less pathetic sounding_?

"Hmm," he hummed thoughtfully. He searched his glass, as if reading the answer there. I regretted the impulsive question.

"I'm sorry, that's a really bizarre question…"

"No, it's a great question." Edward's eyes snapped up to mine, and the intensity I saw there silenced my apology. "I'll tell you anything."

He shrugged. "It's actually an easy answer," he said. "It was when my father was going through his final round of chemo. We all spent nearly all our time at the hospital; my dad, my mom and me. I spent many nights spent sleeping on those unbelievably uncomfortable cots." His eyes shifted down for a split second, but darted back up to meet mine almost immediately. This time I was watching him, waiting to hold his gaze, absorbing every word he was giving me in that smooth, silken voice.

"Anyway, there was one night in particular – I was around eight, I think… yeah, because we still had another year together after that. Anyway, it was really late, and my dad was sleeping. My mom went down the hall to the nurse's station just for a moment, and I was left alone with him." Edward rubbed the back of the couch with the hand that rested directly behind my head, and I had a sudden urge to capture it in both of mine, to run my fingers across his hard knuckles. He watched his own fingers move in their slow rhythm as he continued.

"Dad was completely bald by then, no head hair or eyebrows. Pale. He'd lost so much weight during that round of treatment. There were some really bad nights back then. Nights when he was so sick he couldn't move, or in so much pain he couldn't do much more but blink while I read to him. But that particular night, nothing like that happened. He was just… sleeping." Edward gave me a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. He smiled for my benefit, even while he was telling me this story, and my heart twisted in my chest.

"See, I vividly remember playing piano with my dad on the days he felt better: him sitting up tall and straight, strong hands striking the keys next to my smaller ones. But that night, as I watched him in that little light above his hospital bed, he was so… small. Broken."

"I'd never seen him completely healthy in my entire life, and the cancer talk was never hidden from me. But that was the first time I actually _got_ that my mom and dad were mortal. That they wouldn't always be there. I know it probably sounds stupid, but that was the moment I truly understood that my father was going to die."

Edward shrugged. "That was the scariest moment of my life. A bit of a buzzkill, I apologize."

I sat, stunned, overwhelmed by his gift. Edward had opened himself to me, truly shared. No hesitation, no doubts. And stupid me, being insane and irreparably defective, I immediately craved more. I would beg him to give me more of him, to slake my thirst and keep my whispering demons away.

"That's not stupid at all," I said softly.

There was so much I _could_ tell him. Of my mother's betrayal, and my father's decision to hate me. But I knew that I _shouldn't_ tell him any of that, though the words and memories were jittering on my tongue like marionettes. Not if I wanted to keep up this charade, to keep him believing that I was worth his time.

But in that pregnant silence, through my thundering heart and Edward's steady rubbing behind my head, I knew that I had to give him a piece of me, too.

"Nine. I was nine in that picture." My voice was barely above a whisper, but I spoke the words, never looking away from Edward's intense gaze. The air in the room had completely changed from the light-hearted teasing and talking from before, when we were sharing pizza from a box and casting covert glances at one another. It was raw now, the air between us. Something had been opened up, and we were there together, staring and breathing, absorbing; his presence fortifying my tenuous bravery. I licked my lips, but they were bone dry and my tongue stuck to the flesh.

Edward didn't say anything. He waited for me.

"I was nine when I was the most scared I've ever been, too," I said haltingly.

I felt Edward's hand stop moving next to my ear. "You don't have to tell me," he said.

"I want to," I admitted, and I didn't care how pitiful it sounded. I didn't. If I never saw Edward again, if this night ended up being such a nightmare that he never looked my way even once more at the office, I still wanted Edward to see this tiny part of me.

"Then breathe," Edward murmured.

I inhaled roughly, the cool air filling my lungs with unexpected urgency.

"It was a Friday night, and as usual I was with my babysitter." The words were stale with disuse, the memory dusty. "Gianna was a family friend's daughter, a teenager who used to watch me after school and would stay with me until Charlie came home from work."

I hadn't spoken of this in nearly fifteen years, but the details were still clear, just as sharp as when I had to recount this night to the counselors with whom I'd been forced to spend time. _Draw me a picture, Bella. How did it make you feel? Let's talk about the darkness. _

But there was no darkness, I'd insist. None. I never allowed it: my first lesson in self-control.

I hadn't even thought about it in years. I hadn't _allowed_ myself to think about this in years. After all, this incident was nothing, simply part of my past. Dealt with. Done. I always imagined it like a handkerchief, folded into crisp neat squares and tucked away into a drawer. Filed away with the other parts of my young life that didn't affect me anymore.

But now, as I inhaled deeply, I tasted phantom dust, stale breath; I willed my fingers to unclench in my lap.

_I'm not that same lonely little girl anymore. I'm not. I'm not._

"Charlie had left earlier in the evening for a weekend business trip. Renee was coming home that night from a trip herself, and I hadn't seen her in a few weeks, so I was excited. I was drawing her a picture." I swallowed, ignoring the familiar ache. I continued, confessing to my hands.

"Renee was supposed to be there by 9:30pm, but by nearly midnight, she still wasn't there. Poor Gianna had called her parents twice, clearly upset and quietly assuring them that she would be home as soon as possible. I remember how agitated she was and how guilty I felt. This wasn't the first time that Renee had made her late."

I still couldn't believe that I was _thinking_ about this, let alone talking about it. Where was this coming from? Where?

"Gianna had a trick, you see. When she would hear Renee's car pull into the driveway, she would wait until she heard the doorknob turn before calling out, 'Gotta get home… good night, Renee!' She would run out the side door and go straight home, before she could get roped into some asinine conversation about boys or school, or whatever else Renee thought a teenager might want to talk about. Gianna had done it for years and years, and Renee was used to it. She probably even knew the trick."

"So that that night, when Gianna leapt up after hearing noise at the door, I didn't think twice." I shook my head. "I was just so excited to see my mom."

"I remember sitting there on the floor in front of the coffee table, crayon in hand, staring at the door. Waiting for it to swing open, and for my mom to be standing there." I bit the inside of my cheek. "But the knob stopped moving, and the door didn't open."

"The house was quiet, and I waited and waited… and I heard the glass breaking in the master bedroom."

Edward's face was stoic as he listened to me speak, leaning forward slightly, but the green in his eyes grew darker, inky forest green. I managed a strangled laugh, slowly becoming cognizant of how weird this must be for him.

I laughed shakily. "Jesus, of all the things I could have told you… you're really getting it tonight," I said, trying to sound causal. But I didn't feel casual. I was confessing my frayed nerves, the nagging fear that I was scaring him away, and my complete confusion that I was even bringing this up in the first place.

"Please go on," he said calmly, never breaking eye contact.

I tugged my bangs away from my eyes, tucked them behind my ear. "I didn't know what to do. I couldn't move. But when I heard the voices – male, unfamiliar, more than one – and crashes and bumps coming from the bedroom, I knew that I needed to hide."

"I ran to the hall closet that faced the living room, climbed in, and pulled the door shut. There were coats and boxes on the floor, and I buried myself deep down, pulling things on top of me. I could still see a bit, through the slats in the door." I blinked against the memory, and my hands chafed at my arms involuntarily. "It was so hot in there. Hard to breathe. Itchy all over my arms, my legs. But I didn't move or make a sound, even when they came into the living room."

"There were three of them. Men that I'd never seen before. They were trying to be quiet, but I could see them looking around. One of them – the tallest, I remember – he looked down and saw my drawing on the coffee table. 'Where's the kid?' he asked the others. He turned and called out: 'Isabeeeella! Are you here, sweetheart?' It sounded like he was singing."

I looked at Edward, whose face was still as impassive as before, but his eyes… oh god, his eyes. They were snapping, emerald fire. "When the police arrested them later, they determined that these men had been casing the house for some time, figuring out our routine, our names. They had somehow found out that Charlie would be gone that weekend and planned the break-in when he would be gone."

"What happened then?" Edward's tone was tight, little urgent.

I sighed. "They searched for me. They opened up the closet door more than once, looking for me… but they never moved anything around. Finally, I heard one of them say, 'He must have taken the kid with him.' "

I let out a hard laugh. "Three grown men couldn't find a child hiding in a closet. Criminal masterminds." My attempt to lighten the mood was lame, and Edward remained still, only moving to blink.

"While I was hiding, I was so sure that Renee would be there any minute, or maybe Charlie would come back home…" My voice trailed off. I didn't want to tell him any more of this stupid story. I smiled to cover the silence, but it felt wrong. I knew it, and worse, I knew _he_ saw it. I decided to end this stupid, pointless story as quickly as possible. "Anyway, eventually they left, Charlie came home, saw the place ransacked, and he called the police. The men were found a few days later, and that was that. Very scary." I talked fast, hoping that Edward would be satisfied with that. What an incredibly unpleasant tale… _Jesus Bella, really?_

"I thought Charlie was gone for the weekend," Edward said slowly.

_Shit_.

"He was." _Let's move on._

"How long were the men in your house?" Same strange voice. I wanted to touch his tense arm, but I didn't. Of course I didn't; I was too busy destroying our time together by telling a ridiculously depressing story.

"They left very early the next morning. The police said that they must have taken their time during the night, knowing that no one was home and that their car was hidden from the street." _Please just drop it now. I'm so sorry I started this…why did I tell him this? Why?_

"How long did you hide?" The question was almost obscene, the answer shameful. Even then, sitting on that couch with Edward, I could feel my muscles screaming and twitching from being crouched down for so long, the dust tickling my nose and the taste of copper blood in my mouth where I had bitten into it to stop from sneezing. And that odor: musty and wet, the ammonia stench burning my nostrils as my soggy pants chaffed my sensitive skin as I prayed they couldn't smell it. I had tried so hard not to go, but eventually I just couldn't take it anymore, after silent tears had cut streaked down my face. It was… humiliating. I hadn't felt that in a long time.

"I…"

I considered lying. It would be so much easier to lie, to tell him it was all over in an hour. That I called Charlie, he came home, Renee walked in a minute later, and we shared a group hug and had ice cream.

But that's not what happened. It was dirtier than that. More disgraceful. But I couldn't lie to Edward, not when he looked at me like that, not with his wild hair and glowing, intense eyes…

_I'm so past this, though. This doesn't matter, and it hasn't mattered for years_. Being scared now was not acceptable.

My cheeks were on fire, and I knew I needed to be honest. _Just say it, and move on._

"I stayed there until the police came, until Sunday evening." My mouth moved, making shapes and pushing out sounds, confessing things I hadn't admitted to anyone, ever. Not even the counselors, who I finally convinced I was better when I told them that the nightmares stopped. I was had been glad; I just wanted to stop talking about it. To stop thinking. Concentrate on school. Dancing. Anything else…

And it worked: the nightmares _had_ stopped.

Eventually.

"When Charlie came home, he called out to me. I heard him. I told everyone I hadn't, but I did. But I was so scared, and tired… I didn't trust my own ears. So I waited, listened for him look for me, panic, call 911. It wasn't until the police actually searched the closet that they found me."

It had been the only time I had ever seen Charlie cry.

The memories were vivid and shocking, made brighter and louder by the wine and the intensity of Edward's proximity.

He finally broke the silence.

"That's…" I felt his hand move, but he replaced behind my head. "I don't know what to say. I'm so sorry that happened to you."

"You know what the fucked up part is?" I asked suddenly. Edward's eyes widened slightly, and I vaguely registered that I had cursed for the first time in front of him. But I felt a wave then, something foreign… as all feelings still were to me, quite frankly. With dull horror I recognized anger, and the fact that I wasn't going to shut my mouth.

"When Renee came home and found out what happened to me, she was horrified. She apologized over and over, saying her flight had been cancelled, she tried to call…" I could see Renee's face, which looked so much like my own, tears ruining her makeup and staining my shirt black as she rocked me, back and forth, like the pendulum.

"So, as if to prove how sorry we truly was, she stayed. Six months. Two weeks. Four days. The longest she had been home at a stretch since I could remember. And Charlie, too… he came home on time. We ate dinner together. They read to me, and went to my performances and recitals…" I was speaking quickly now, and distantly I knew that I must sound crazy, look worse… but the words were spilling from my mouth, black gunk that lined my insides, escaping from some deep place in me that I hadn't even been aware existed.

I reached down and snatched the picture off the floor. "This is the only picture I have of all three of us." I held it in both hands, finally turning the frozen faces up. "Isn't that crazy? About three months later, we went to the zoo. It was the first spontaneous family outing we had _ever_ taken, one that wasn't scheduled or staged or scripted. We went together and stayed all day, and ate hotdogs and watched the giraffes, and Renee held my hand and Charlie smiled at me."

I swallowed thickly as I looked at the picture: smiling, red-cheeked Bella between a younger Charlie and beautiful Renee, a woolen hat covering my ears. Me and my parents. It hurt so much to look at it, so shockingly much, fucking feelings existing so close to the surface. I longed for numbness.

"Of course, eventually, Renee left again," I said, my voice softer now. "She promised she would be back in a few days, but I knew the minute she left it was back to like before. I don't think she could help it." I drew in a shaking breath, and realized that I was dangerously close to losing it. Right there. "So that was the most scared I had ever been… but also it gave me my mom and dad back, for a little while."

I collapsed into the silence, finally spent, confessions exhausted.

The room was dead silent except for Edward's slow breathing. I looked up at him, and stared. His face was hard, tense and lined. He was watching me so intently, and I saw that his fist was clenched in his lap, tendons straining beneath the skin. His jaw was clenched tight, and his bicep was flexed.

_Oh god._ I was immediately mortified. I had upset him, made a complete fool of myself by talking about my bizarre childhood experience that I shouldn't even remember anymore. _Where_ had that come from?

Worst first date in history.

"I'm so… that was… screwed up. I shouldn't have said any of that." Edward's tight features didn't relax, and the truth of this whole situation finally slammed into me; I felt small and ashamed. "_I'm_ screwed up," I whispered.

I looked around the room, searching for escape. "I'm so sorry…" I stood, my body humming. I needed to hide from these things I had long ago learned to control. To bury myself in motion, in work, in anything that dulled the pain...

"I should check on your clothes," I mumbled. I took a step away.

"Please don't."

Edward had stood also, his full height now towering over me, overwhelming me with his size and presence. As I moved away, he quickly reached out and firmly grasped my hand in his. My fingers tangled with his automatically.

I froze completely, my entire attention shifting to the parts of me that were touching him. His hand was hot, searing my bare skin when I finally, _finally_ felt his palm pressing flat against mine.

I jumped a little bit; it was like a static shock. His electricity flowed right through me, filling me, rooting me to the spot. I looked up at him. His jawline strong and perfect, the stubble dusting it copper and sparse. A steady pulse beat in his throat, and his eyes flashed down at me, full, gleaming. Pleading.

"Please." The word was spoken into charged stillness, caressing my heated skin, my trembling limbs. "Don't run away now."

"I'm just…" I was helpless. I didn't have anywhere to hide: no distance, no movement, no barrier. His hand was big, bigger than I had thought. It encased my smaller one in his completely, and it fit. It just fit, the curves and knuckles, fingers laced tightly. I held on. "How can you be here still? You're so… and I'm just… hopeless."

"No." His word was firm, and I felt the instinct to argue, to convince him I was bad. Didn't he see that yet?

"You're incredible." His thumb moved slightly against the back of my hand, and my skin sang. His gaze caressed me weightlessly, the curves of my flushed face, my ears, my wide, confused eyes.

"There is nowhere else I would rather be right this minute," he said quietly, and his voice was liquid warmth. "I don't think you understand that yet. But I hope to convince you… if you'll let me try."

I said nothing. I was so scared that I would tell him how I was feeling, and scared that I would _lose_ the opportunity to tell him, too.

"If you want me to go now, I'll go." His voice tumbled from his mouth and rubbed me like fine sandpaper, and I saw his gaze flicker to my lips.

I shook my head vigorously, a whimper tugging in my throat.

"What do you want, Ms. Swan?"

I looked up at him, straight into his handsome face, and was sure and unsure about everything, ever, all at the same time.

"I want you to call me Bella."

I think my heart really did stop when slowly, slowly, Edward brought his free hand up to my face, fingers stretching until they met with my overheated skin, his feather-light touch ghosting my forehead as he gently brushed my bangs aside. His eyes were glowing in the low light.

"I will."

My pulse throbbed through me, each beat making my body gently sway.

"I don't want you to leave," I whispered. The words were brittle, and I feared they would break before they reached his ears.

But Edward smiled, a familiar melody, an embrace we had not yet shared. His fingers tightened on mine.

"Good."

We were standing in the middle of my living room, and I was still reeling a bit from what had just happened. I looked down at our hands, still clasped between us; his were soft, what I would expect from a computer tech. But I knew that he was also a musician, and I could now imagine what these fingers felt like touching ivory and onyx, striking calm chords that resonated through my entire being, sweeping and pounding, brushing and tapping. The promise of sound and silence, held in the palm of my hand.

I bit my lip. Hard. I was unexpectedly overwhelmed he was staying, so grateful he would be here to calm me and I wouldn't be alone after all of this to obsess, to pick myself apart and convince myself that this was a disaster…

A thought then came, small and unfamiliar. It was calm and confident, spoken to me in the quiet of the moment. It wasn't Alice's sweet, steady voice, or Isabella's harsh, cutting tone. It was my own voice, clear and true.

_Aside from the pathetic confession, this night has actually been kind of… incredible._

I slowly raised my eyes, and there he was. Still there. Standing next to me, watching me think. I had already memorized the glittering gold in his irises, the pink of his lips; they were stained slightly darker from the wine. His chest rose and fell with each steady breath. And his skin was so hot and dry underneath my palm, solid and real.

Reality infiltrated the warm haze:

_Okay, I have him here… what do I do with him now?_

I knew what I _wanted_ to do. What my body was practically begging me to do. But I couldn't… I couldn't return his touch. I wasn't ready.

_Not yet_, my own voice whispered, and my heart jumped at the rare, hopeful thought.

"Do you, ah…" my voice was rusty, and I tried again, pushing the words out quickly. "Do you want to watch a movie?" It was the first activity I thought of that was non-creepy, or at least not _let's stare at each other for another_ _hour_ creepy. Which I was perfectly content to do, sincerely, but I was pretty sure I had reached my quota of bizarre tonight.

"Sure."

"I'll go get us some water." As soon as the words were out of my mouth I regretted them. Because that meant I had to step away, and my hand was coming with me. It was inevitable, of course; I couldn't exist in Edward's palm for the rest of my life. But damn my stupid mouth for ending it so soon.

"I'll pick one out," Edward angled his chin toward the movie rack, and I nodded, my head bobbing loosely on the stem of my neck. I paused, probably much longer than I should have, trying to memorize the feel of his weight attached to me, his heat so close to mine.

I finally stepped away, and our hands hung between us for a moment, connection holding, before gently sliding away. I was immediately cold.

In the kitchen, I leaned against the counter for support. Time was completely beyond me; for all I knew, we could have been out there talking for minutes or months. I glanced at the clock and saw that it was after midnight. _Holy shit, we've been talking for hours!_ We still had work tomorrow, but I couldn't find it in me to give a shit. I would stay up all night with him.

I was shaken, unsettled; I knew that in my situation, my control were tenuous at best, and I couldn't help the sour doubt that this would truly ever happen again.

Again, shame coursed through me as I remembered what I had told him._ What the hell _was_ that, Bella? _I had worked so hard to forget all of that, and the unbidden memory scared me. But I couldn't think about that now, I couldn't…

I closed my eyes and spoke to the voice inside of me, the one that tried to make contact before.

_Listen, _I thought crazily. My seams were bulging, unprocessed thoughts and emotions fluttering wildly beneath my skin. _Please pull it together. Think about it all later. Don't shut down. Do not confess anymore childhood traumas, do not ask any stupid questions. Just go back out there and watch a movie like a normal human being, and maybe, just maybe, this can work out. _

This strange concept – optimism – propelled me back out the door, cool glasses already sweating under my touch.

Edward had a movie in his hand. He looked up at me a bit sheepishly as he handed it to me. It was my special edition Pulp Fiction.

"That one acceptable?" he asked. "You have… awide selection of chick movies." He attacked his hair, which I noticed was a little puffier than normal.

"Oh, those are all Alice's. She's a sucker for a romantic comedy. The Tarantino is mine." Now my voice sound way, way too loud.

"Nice."

There was a crisp tension now. I could feel it on the back of my neck, in my toes, skittering along my spine. Something had shifted between us. The room seemed smaller now that I knew what his skin felt like under my fingers. I was filled with anxious energy and as I watched him settle down on the far end of the couch; I got the distinct feeling we were both just a little bit unsure how to proceed. It was actually a little comforting; Edward apparently didn't know exactly what to do now, either.

I started the movie and assumed a small space on the other end of the sofa. I curled one leg under me and folded the other against my chest, my arms wrapping around me and forming a ball of awkwardness. I didn't know where to put my limbs, or where to lay my head. I kept my neck rigidly straight and trying to ignore the how stiff I must look. Edward, on the other hand, spread out a bit, bringing one bent knee up on the cushion next to me, left arm lounging on the couch back. He looked more at ease; I wish I could catch it from him.

Throughout the opening breakfast scene, Edward and I traded glances. I would feel focused heat against my cheek and I would turn my head slightly to see points of green pointed at me, and lips turned up ever so slightly. He would quickly snap his attention back to the television, and I would follow his gaze back to the movie, excitement dancing though my body. Then, in a show of boldness that would have shocked the old me, (hell, it shocked the new me a little bit, too), I would steal a look at him, barely turning my neck until he caught me, and then my eyes would dart away. I had to bite my lips to keep from smiling.

While we were engaging in eye-tag, my body wouldn't stop fidgeting. I stretched my leg down onto the ground, only to bring it back up. I laid my arms at my sides, but then wrapped them around me again; first one arm, then the other, then both. Head up and down. Toes curled and straightened.

"You okay over there?" Edward asked, and my stupid flush, which I thought had finally shown me mercy and gone to bed for the night, splashed my face and neck with crimson.

"Yes. I'm just…"

I looked at Edward, and he was so sweet and smiling and cute, and his eyes were so green and I was so fucking exhausted from running and drinking and feeling…

_Fuck it._

I sighed. My forehead dropped onto my bent knee. "I don't know what to do with myself." I knew it was a rare display of vulnerability; blame it on the atmosphere, or the wine, or the way Cookie Monster stretched tight across his pecs… but at that moment, there was nothing left in me to be calculating.

"You…" I watched as Edward swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. He looked down before looking back up right at me, eyes glittering.

"You could come here."

He lifted his arm up off the couch, held his hand out to me, palm up. Scooted his leg over. Angled his chest toward my direction. The movie played on in the background, hollow voices filling the cavernous pause between us, while Edward just watched and politely waited for me to decide, as he always did.

And for once, I moved without thinking.

I crawled across the couch toward him, cheeks blazing fire, lungs unable to flex. His eyes, his breath, his smell… they all drew me closer, magnetically. As I did that night against the tree, I breathed in his heat into my lungs, felt it lick my exposed skin.

But unlike that night against the tree, I wasn't going to pull away this time.

As I approached him, however, my mind was trying to process a million details at once: _Oh shit oh shit oh shit. I don't know where to put anything. He smells amazing. Should my legs touch his? Fuck, he's got nice hands. What about my hands? Holy shit, where should I put my hands? And for godsake, what about my big stupid head?_

But Edward decided for me.

His left arm came down and around me, grabbing me, scooting me closer. I slid down his side as he pulled my body against his, enveloping me in the smell of soap and sweet, of honey and night and him. My body settled into the crook of his shoulder, as his arm wrapped around me. He gently brought me back onto his broad chest, my head resting next to his neck.

It was…

I can't describe it. It was beyond words.

Beyond control and boundaries and carefully drawn lines, beyond walls and doubts and me.

His heat seared through my thin clothes, under my skin, permeating deep in my muscles. I was aware of every square inch of me that was pressed to his firm body. There was fire everywhere: across my skin, in my head and chest, between my legs, beneath my closed eyelids. Everything. Everywhere.

And incredibly, miraculously, mercifully… my mind was silent and steady, uncertainty forgotten. I wondered idly how I could have lived every day before this moment and never felt like I did now. Never feeling him. It wasn't fathomable.

Edward's arms drained the tension away from me.

"Is this okay?" I felt his words against my hair, and I vaguely registered that I nodded against his chest.

_More okay than anything, ever, in the history of things being okay. _

I didn't know where my voice was; maybe it was back on the other end of the couch. It wasn't important, anyway. My hands slowly crept up, up, until they found purchase, sliding along his skin. My fingers tightened around his arm, feeling soft hair and raised veins, the firm give of muscles flexing gently beneath my touch. Oh god, his bare forearm, that pale skin that had taunted me so many times the past months from across the room that now rested lightly across my chest, pressing my breasts flat and firm. My fingers curled around him, and I sighed contentedly.

Edward continued to hold me as the movie played on. My fingers grew bold, gently moved over him in circles and swirls, lightly tracing my name, over and over again: _Bella Bella Bella,_ as if I could silently give it to him, give myself to him, give him permission to take me.

Periodically, I felt Edward turn his head into mine and heard his deep inhalations; soft sounds muffled again my hair, and gentle pressure intermittently on my scalp.

My fingers told him what I felt, how he made me feel.

_Safe. Calm. Excited. Hopeful. Alive._

"Thank you," I mumbled. My mouth felt swollen, and I struggled to stay sentient, to take in every detail.

"For what?" Edward's whisper was gravelly through the darkness, pure sex sliding across my neck, my lips.

My eyelids were heavy, lead weights now attached to my eyelashes, and my tongue curved to mold around words I wasn't entirely sure I was saying out loud.

"…for existing."

The last thing I heard before the warmth met with darkness was Edward's low, rumbling chuckle.

* * *

**Poor Bella. She's built her entire life with the idea that she could handle anything on her own, by herself, through sheer will and discipline.**

Denial ain't just a river in Egypt, Ms. Swan.

**Like most of you, my life is insanely busy… corporate job, brutal commute, wedding planning, stupid sleep. Hence, the long time between updates. I can promise you this: Disciplined Breakdown will be absolutely be completed. I work on it every single day, even if only for ten minutes at night before I pass out at my desk. I will not forget it, or you, or disappear into thin air. (My dearest RockABelly, this is my solemn vow. Thanks for the favorite.) **

**I want to sincerely thank you all so, so much for the love and support. Everyone. Every single review, every PM or message on Twitter means more than I could possibly express. Smooches and awkward hand-holdings all around!**

**If you're on Twitter, come find me! I get all excited when I get a follow request that isn't porn spam. ahlthyaddiction**

**So I am working on chapter 13 right now, I will have it up ASAP, no ETA as of yet. Please feel free to PM or email me any questions, comments, recipes, etc. **

**I adore you all. Can we make out already??**

**- ahealthyaddiction **


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